


Thief of Hearts

by TruebornAlpha



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkward Flirting, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bad Touch, Bathroom Sex, Best Friends, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Cute, Dorks in Love, Electrocution, Exhibitionism, Family Feels, First Dates, Fluff and Smut, Found Family, Friendship, Hand Jobs, Heartbreak, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Minor Hunk/Lance (Voltron), Mutual Pining, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Pining, Prostitution, Public Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex, Sex Work, Sexual Coercion, Smut, Thief Keith, Wall Sex, gender fluid pidge, gentle dom Shiro, non-binary Pidge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:34:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7913515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/pseuds/TruebornAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiro is a high end prostitute waiting for his client to arrive. Keith is a thief on the run looking for a place to hide. </p><p>A Moulin Rouge inspired Sheith fic!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments if you enjoyed it! More chapters to come.

_Paradise Lodge_  was a nice place. Fancy. It had everything you could ask for in a five-star hotel, mirrored lobby walls, polite valets, wait staff that brought you fizzy drinks with tiny umbrellas while you waited. Keith burst through the staff entrance and did his very best to look like he belonged there.

His life depended on it.

Keith was no stranger to trouble. He’d been a hustler for far too long already to keep his nose clean. It always seemed like the world was against him his entire life. No matter how many times he tried to get ahead, there was always something there to knock him back down. He’d bounced around the foster system for as long as he could remember, learning what he needed to survive with bloodied knuckles and practiced speed. He struck out on his own years ago at just 16, living on the streets and putting his skills to good use.

He was fast and smart. Once upon a time, there was a scholarship to the Galactic Garrison that proved it, but that was a long time ago. Now he took vaults and safes apart like he was born to. He was good in a fight, always fought dirty. He could drive anything. He’d lost two of his fingers trying to convince Sendak of it. 

Sendak was a monster in a suit, with more blood on his hands than most humans had in their body. Barely a handful of years ago, he'd come out of nowhere. The faceless mobster ruled the city with an iron fist, bleeding it dry, and picking over the bones of anyone who tries to stand against him. His poison kept it alive just long enough for him to make a profit, but he was a master of his game. He had the police in one pocket, and murderers out of uniform in another, and nothing went on in town without him hearing about it. He was everywhere, like the mist, and only the most trusted members of his organization had even seen his face.

And Keith had stolen from him.

It was a risk he had needed to take. Sendak didn’t like it when his  _associates_ met with from employees from the District Attorney’s office. Keith only barely qualified as an associate, in as much as anyone who earned an indecent living in Sendak’s territory could, but a chance meeting with an overzealous clerk could get him killed. He didn’t think anyone had witnessed the meeting, but Sendak kept electronic eyes all over the city. It had been Keith’s reckless idea to break into Sendak’s headquarters to try and steal video footage. 

Suffice it to say, it hadn’t gone well.

Keith kept his head down, quietly noting and avoiding the cameras in the lobby with a practiced eye. A bellboy passed, pushing heavy, baggage-laden cart, and Keith swiped a blazer off of its coat hanger, never stopping to see if the other man noticed. He threw his hair into a tiny ponytail and arranged the suit more comfortably around his shoulders. It was a little too long; the sleeves fell past his wrist, but it hid his hoody. He didn’t want to spend, but he could afford a drink at the bar, lay low until the lobby lights dimmed.

It sounded like a good enough plan until he caught a glimpse of one of Sendak’s men moving through the front door.

Keith swore under his breath, sliding into a seat at the bar and hunching his shoulders, trying to blend in. He tapped the closest man sitting next to him on the shoulder. “Talk to me!”

The man beside him blinked in surprise before a slow smile twitched at the corner of his mouth and for a moment, Keith forgot all about the ones chasing him. He was tall and broad shouldered, suit tailored to perfection across his chest and tapered down to a narrow waist. But it was his face that left Keith speechless. A deep scar cut across pale skin, but it didn’t detract from man’s beauty. Dark eyes sparkled with humor, a sensual mouth drew Keith’s attention and held it captive. When the man laughed, Keith felt his gut clench all the way down to his groin.

“How about I buy you a drink instead?” The man asked and Keith felt himself nodding along. He waved at the bartender who set a glass in front of Keith and poured in a generous amount of amber liquid. The thief slammed it back and gasped at the burn as the man beside him laughed again.

“Slow down there, cowboy. There’s no need to rush, I’m not going anywhere. You can call me Shiro.”

Even if it burned his throat and left his chest thrumming with heat, the alcohol did nothing for Keith’s nerves. He was sure he’d missed something, misstepped in some way, but Shiro was still there with the prettiest smile Keith had ever seen.

“You look like a model.” He blurted out. It almost bothered him. Keith flushed beet red, grinding his teeth together. He’d meant to ask about where the other man worked was all, the words came out wrong. Small talk. He hated it, but he should have been able to do it. “I mean- I’m bad at this part. Can we try again? I’m Keith.”

Shiro watched him fidget with a smile and Keith couldn’t keep from scowling back. He was always so terrible at this, people were complex and uncomfortable. Half of the time, he didn’t know what to say and when he did open his mouth, he was too honest and direct. He usually didn’t care much for subtleties, they were a waste of time when people couldn’t just say what they meant, but looking at Shiro’s grin, he suddenly wished he was better at all the useless small talk.

“It’s nice to meet you,  _Keith_.” Shiro said, emphasizing his name like it meant something Keith didn’t understand. 

“I’m really not good at this.” He emphasized, falling back into bluntness. 

“No, I think you’re doing fine. It’s okay, just relax, Keith. You don’t have to be so nervous. You come here often?”

“No.” Keith looked around at the luxurious hotel and its glittering patrons, feeling way out of place. A kid from the gutter had no business here, especially talking to someone who seemed at home among the wealthy patrons. “I don’t really get out much.” He finished lamely.

Shiro caught his uncomfortable look and followed his gaze, taking in the well-dressed guests of the hotel lounging around the lobby and claiming the bar for their own. The young man was nervous, that much was obvious. This transaction might to better in private. “You know, I was looking for a little company tonight and I haven’t found a single person here who had anything interesting to say. You look like you’ve got a few stories to tell, do you…I have a room upstairs, would it help if we had a little bit more privacy?”

Keith looked over his shoulder again, spotting Sendak’s men combing through the bar and nodded, grabbing Shiro’s arm. “That sounds perfect, let’s go!”

Shiro chuckled, a warm delightful sound that hummed along his nerves as he tucked a couple of bills under his empty glass. Keith could feel his ears burning. This was moving way too fast, but there wasn’t time to think about it when Sendak’s men were closing in. He all but dragged the other man into the closest elevator, quietly breathing a sigh of relief as the doors closed. When he turned, Shiro was looking at him expectantly. Keith didn’t know what he was waiting for, but he’d give it to him if he could.

“So.” Shiro started, dragging out the sound with a quirked brow.

“I like your shoes.”

“What?”

Forget Sendak’s men catching up with him. Anything would be better than this.  It was one thing to talk to someone. It was another thing to talk to someone who you were trying to convince to stick around. To make matters worse, Shiro looked like he was about to start laughing, and Keith scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Never mind.” 

That expression didn’t entirely fade as Shiro lead him to his room. It was a nice hotel, no holes in the carpet, no smell of mothballs. Keith did his best not to shove Shiro inside, but anxiously checked the door after it closed. Shiro had dropped on the bed and watched him with those warm, knowing eyes. Keith frowned nervously. It was either that or start make a run for it, but Shiro was gesturing for him to come closer, and staying away didn’t feel like an option.

“It was easy to get you up here, so I have to ask.” Shiro said nonchalantly as if he already knew the answer. “What do you want, Keith?” 

“To stop looking like an idiot around you.” He answered too readily with a self-deprecating scowl. “And a better coat wouldn’t hurt.”

Okay, so that wasn’t the answer Shiro was expecting and he leaned forward in confusion. Keith refused to squirm under Shiro’s appraising look, back ramrod straight and never flinching. Eventually, Shiro relaxed back down on the bed with a small smile.

“I don’t know, I think you look pretty good in it.” He turned up the charm, oozing seduction but Keith seemed almost immune as he frowned down at his stolen jacket and shrugged it off.

“Nah, it’s just something I picked up. I don’t usually wear stuff like this anyways, you look like some kind of egotistical Wall Street douche. Uh…not that  _you_  do, or anything.”

Shiro’s brows knit again, thrown by Keith’s words before he peeled off his own jacket, folding it and laying it aside. The tie came next, slowly loosening it as he caught Keith’s eye as Shiro tried to gauge his reaction. It was a delicate dance, testing to see how far he could go, how far Keith wanted him to go. “I’m glad I don’t look like a douche.”

Keith flopped down in a chair in a chair across the room and sighed, still eyeing the door warily like someone was going to burst through at any minute and haul him out behind the dumpster to put a bullet in his head. Shiro caught the look and gestured towards the door.

“Do you…want me to get room service? I can get us some champagne if that would help you to relax.” Shiro tried again to get things on track.

“Actually, a drink wouldn’t hurt. Think they can send up a Sprite?” Keith asked so hopefully that Shiro had to muffle his laughter.

“I can ask.” He called down to the front desk and relayed their order before rolling back on the bed and running his hands down his chest. Deft fingers popped open the first few buttons of his shirt, exposing the long column of his throat and the pale, scarred skin of his chest. “So Keith, why don’t you tell me a little bit more about yourself. What kinds of things do you like?”

That was something he could’ve asked without sounding like a tool, Keith regretted quietly, wishing he had thought of the question first. But he had to look away, fingers plucking absently at the side of his chair. It was a difficult question to answer. There wasn’t much time he could spend figuring that out, and what he did like sometimes came back to kick him in the butt. There was still only one answer that really felt right, though. “Space.”

“Space.” Shiro deadpanned.

“Space, yeah.” Keith said earnestly, with no small amount of wistfulness, but he got more excited the more he talked. “There’s this really big mission coming up. They’re going to one of Pluto’s moons, and that’s just amazing. Can you imagine being there?”

“You’re following the Kerberos mission.” Shiro sounded shocked. Keith didn’t blame him.

“When I can. I don’t always have the time. You know, or I guess you don’t. I could’ve gotten into the Garrison once.”

“Well why didn’t you?” There was nothing but concern in his voice, and Keith risked a glance at the other man. People had stopped asking a long time ago.

“Life got in the way, I guess.” He said softly, looking down at his left hand and the blunt stumps where his fingers used to be. “Have you ever flown?”

This wasn’t going the way Shiro had thought and Keith was definitely not what he’d been expecting. He had pulled out some of his best moves, but beside the faint flush high in Keith’s cheeks, he didn’t seem to care. Shiro shook his head and sat upright on the bed. He shrugged and rolled with it, giving Keith the truth.

“Actually, I have.” Shiro touched the scar across the bridge of his nose. “I was part of the air force a while back, I was discharged after being injured. I miss it sometimes, there was nothing like the rush of flying. It’s speed and freedom, I never wanted to be grounded.” If Keith wanted honesty, Shiro obliged, but he didn’t mean to let the wistful regret creep into his voice.

“That’s amazing! I-I mean…” Keith rubbed his hands together, lost in thought for a moment with all the could-have-beens. He ached for that freedom, no matter what the cost, but his life would never let him leave the ground. 

Shiro abandoned the bed and sat down on the carpet, tucking his legs beneath him. He abandoned the seduction, intrigued by the young man who spoke like he actually wanted to get to know him. No one ever really cared, small talk was just part of the dance to get what they wanted in the end. This felt different and after going through the motions longer than he cared to remember, Shiro was thrown off guard. It was nice not to know what was going to happen to next. “Why are you asking me about this?”

“I don’t know. Why are you answering?”

“Because I think you’ll listen.” Shiro said sincerely. “And I like it when you smile.” 

There it was. Keith scrubbed his hands over his face to try and hide the heat that spread across his cheeks, but there was nowhere for him to look without being painfully obvious. Shiro was right there.

But Shiro felt like he’d finally gotten back on track. This was a well-practiced routine. Keith just needed a little coaxing, and he got on his knees and cupped the other man’s cheek. It was so easy to draw him into a kiss, felt him gasp against his lips. Then Keith pulled away with a hand on Shiro’s shoulder, his brow furrowed nervously. “You don’t have to do this. I just want…”

Keith swallowed around a protest, because he just wanted  _this,_  and a lot more of it. It wasn’t his first kiss, but he’d never wanted to steal a second one so badly.

“I want to do this.” Shiro murmured, surprised that he actually meant those words for the first time in a long time. He moved closer and froze as someone knocked soundly at the door. They broke apart guiltily like they’d been caught doing something wrong and Shiro made his way to the door as Keith watched warily for any sign that his enemies had found him.

Oh god, for a moment, he’d been so lost in Shiro’s eyes that he’d forgotten why he was here. There was the soft murmur of voices and then Shiro closed the door, carrying a covered tray with him.

“I hope you don’t mind, I thought you might need something to eat to go along with your drink.” He said simply, setting the tray on the floor and laying out dishes as if they were having a picnic. 

Keith barely relaxed, body still held wire tight and mouth tingling with the memory of Shiro’s lips. He wasn’t naive and he certainly wasn’t an idiot, of course he knew what it meant to be invited to someone’s hotel room whatever his ulterior motives had been. He wasn’t some inexperienced blushing virgin, but he knew his own faults. He was too abrasive sometimes to care about social niceties and often too focused on more important matters to care. Relationships were complicated and messy, he didn’t have time to devote to other people.

The part he couldn’t understand was that Shiro looked at him like he actually liked him. That didn’t fact into his calculations and left Keith flustered as he joined the other man on the floor.

He let himself be distracted by food. He was better off than a lot of people in his position, but Keith knew never to let a good meal go to waste. Burger and fries, it was everything he could ask for. He made appreciative noises around his meal, and half of it disappear in three bites. He ate like a machine, expecting to be interrupted at any moment, it was why he didn’t notice Shiro watching him immediately.

Keith followed his gaze suspiciously, and slowly lowered his hand, wiping his fingers on a napkin. It wouldn’t be the first time someone told him that eating around him was ‘unappetizing.’ He’d just really wanted Shiro to not be an asshole.

“It’s not pretty.” Keith grunted, already resigned to the worst, but Shiro gave him a pointed smile. Shiro pushed up his sleeve, revealing the smooth, cool metal of a prosthetic arm.

“Wanna trade horror stories?” Shiro asked, with a dry self-indulgent sort of humor that almost made Keith tell him everything, but where Shiro had gotten hurt preparing to be a hero for their country, Keith had gotten his while trying to prove he couldn’t be touched. Keith lost bad on a street race for a couple grand. The loss stung, but he would’ve been able to walk away with all of him attached if he hadn’t tried to reach above his station. He’d been representing one of Sendak’s generals,  _volunteered_  for it, got them to give him one of the most powerful cars he’d ever ridden for a cool five minutes. They evened his score with a laugh. They said it was for scratching the car.

“Car accident.” He said instead, shrugging his shoulders. “Tried to do something stupid. It ended the way you’d expect. You?”

“Plane crash.” Shiro popped open a few more buttons, the extent of his injuries written across his body. Scars and burns marked the perfect skin, his arm ended at the elbow. Even though the high tech prosthetic looked almost real, there was a subtle difference in skin tone that gave it away. He held out his arm and flexed his fingers, giving Keith a wry smile. “I was doing something stupid too.”

It startled another laugh from Keith and he could feel himself leaning into Shiro’s space. It helped to know he wasn’t as perfect as he seemed on the outside. “Glad to know I’m not the only one.”

“You’re not exactly what I was expecting,” Shiro offered almost cautiously, caught up in Keith’s honesty and unsure if he could really trust this disheveled young man.

“What were you expecting?”

Shiro shrugged one shoulder and Keith was mesmerized by the shifting muscles in every small movement. “I thought you were going to be…I don’t know.” _Terrible._ “You make me laugh. I’m actually having fun.”

“You are?” Keith was stunned. He was never lucky when he was actually trying and he stared at Shiro trying to see any lies lurking beneath his words. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He tossed a french fry at Keith’s face. “You’re full of surprises.”

It bounced off Keith’s forehead, but the thief still shoved it in his mouth, and that set Shiro off laughing. Keith glowered at him for emphasis, but there was no real heat in his gaze, not when Shiro was pressed up against him, leaning in until Keith could feel his arm all against his side. Warm, and solid and  _available_ , with so much bare skin to steal away his attention.

His swallowed thickly, eyes going to the hollow of Shiro’s clavicle, where dark shadows pooled, begging Keith to find out how deep they went. He nudged Shiro with his shoulder, almost tried to warn him, but Shiro looked down at him with half-lidded eyes, and Keith didn’t want to stop himself. He wrapped his hand around the back of Shiro’s nape, drawing him in slowly. All of Shiro’s carefully calculated plans and detached seduction techniques crumbled as they were kissing, kissing sloppy and slow and earnest. Keith shuddered against the other man’s body.

“Surprise?”

Shiro pushed him back slowly, demanding but gentle as he trailed kisses down Keith’s neck. The thief arched up into his hands as Shiro unbuttoned his shirt, finger tips tracing down the smooth skin of his chest to settle low on his hips. “You don’t have to.” Keith tried again but Shiro silenced him with a kiss.

“Maybe I want to. Don’t you?” He purred against Keith’s ear as the younger man shuddered.

“Yes.”

It was never this easy, some part of Keith knew it was too good to be true, but with his life falling to pieces outside of these walls, it was nice to surrender into something good for a change. Maybe, just this once, his luck really had changed. Blunt teeth gently scraped against his hardening nipples, Shiro’s mouth warm and wet against him as he teased the sensitive nub until Keith gasped. He tightened his fingers around Shiro’s shoulders, digging into his skin hard enough to bruise.

“Who  _are_ you?” Keith whispered as Shiro blew across the wet skin, goosebumps racing across his skin.

“Who do you want me to be?”

Not one of Sendak’s men. Not a trained killer. It would just be Keith’s luck that Shiro was.

“I just want you to be you.” 

Shiro laughed and his entire body flushed hot as Shiro drew circles over his belly. He peeled off Keith’s jeans with agonizing slowness, dragging his boxers down at the same time. His thumbs smoothed across the cut of his hip, and Keith’s thighs trembled with anticipation.

“You don’t know me, Keith.” Shiro teased, peppering kisses across Keith’s sternum like he had all the time in the world. “But I’m really going to enjoy getting to know you.”

Shiro’s hand curled around his cock, squeezing just right, and Keith threw his head back and moaned.

Keith was prettier than he expected and Shiro wanted to explore every inch of him. He dragged his mouth down the cut of Keith’s hip, the rough scratch of hair against his cheek as he noised against his semi-hard cock. Keith gave a choked groan, twisting his fingers into Shiro’s hair as he gently kissed the tip of his length, swiping his tongue down him with long, sure strokes.

“God, yes.” Keith’s voice broke over the words as Shiro wrapped his mouth around him and swallowed him down inch by inch. It was a slow torture as Keith felt like he was unraveling, Shiro taking him apart with ease. He lifted his hips, stuttering up into Shiro’s mouth even as he tried to keep himself still. 

“You like that?” The question was laced with the most vexing humor. Shiro pulled off, licking his lips clean like he was chasing Keith’s taste. Keith raised himself up on his elbows and almost flopped back down to the floor at the dark hooded look in the other man’s eyes. He wanted to ruin Shiro’s perfect face, come all over him and watch it drip down his swollen pink mouth.

“More,” he hissed through clenched teeth, pushing insistently as his hips bucked up on their own accord. Shiro, very frustratingly, did not oblige. Instead he moved lower still, licking at the soft skin of Keith’s inner thigh, pinching it between his teeth until his partner jolted, a finger pressing against his taint. Keith was so responsive, so eager, hungry for more as precum dribbled past his cock’s shiny wet head.

“I can make you come just like this,” Shiro rasped, nose right against Keith’s groin and he kissed and sucked and  _worshiped_ his skin, making the other man spread his legs wider. “On my mouth and hands, all over my face. You taste so good, Keith, but I really want you to fuck me. Is that okay?”

He didn’t expect Keith to respond so loudly - and Keith never said a word. With quicksilver reflexes, he wrapped his legs around Shiro’s shoulders, keeping him trapped as he flipped them over. An almost textbook move that called to old training Shiro thought he’d lost long ago, making him shudder in anticipation, but Keith was already climbing him.

Keith ground his hips into him, dragging his cock over his clothed thigh, stealing friction over his slacks. He was breathing hard, fingers unsteady as he undid the last buttons on Shiro’s dress shirt, opening him up like the most filthy present. His fingers fanned out across Shiro’s chest, tracing his scars so gently that Shiro shivered. Then his mouth replaced his fingers, tongue laving over each mark, memorizing them with its tip. He pulled off with an obscene pop, and eyes so dark with lust, black swallowed their color.

“Shiro I want, I want-” Shiro was spread out beneath him, sweat dotting his brow, his chest rising and falling with each breath and Keith traced the hem of his shirt, trying to take everything in. “Keep it on.”

Shiro exhaled sharply, then he arched his back in a maddeningly graceful move, putting himself on display for Keith, his neck bared until Keith just wanted to  _bite._ “Condoms in my front pocket.”

Keith made a grab for them, nearly dropped the silver packets. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Shiro, distracted, almost hesitant. Shiro noticed.

“Keith.” He spoke like he was tasting Keith’s name, turning a risk over in his head before he decided his odds were fanfuckingtastic. “I’m going to tell you exactly how to fuck me, and you’re gonna make me feel so good.”

Hands fumbled for the condom and Keith cursed as he struggled to tear open the packet. He couldn’t seem to get anything to work right as he held the edge in his teeth and twisted. Shiro chuckled, gently taking it from him and breaking it open in one smooth twist. The older man leaned forward to kiss him as he unzipped Keith’s pants to free him and rolled the lubed condom down his cock.

Keith shuddered at the touch, thrusting uselessly against Shiro’s hands. “There we go.” Shiro murmured, catching Keith’s mouth with his own in a kiss that left them both breathless. “Now you’re going to do exactly what I say.”

They shifted, yanking off clothing that just got in the way as he wrapped his legs around Keith’s waist and coaxed him back down. The thief teased the head of his cock against Shiro’s tight entrance, guiding himself as the ring of muscle yielded around him. Shiro’s body went pliant as he slowly fucked himself deeper, inch by inch until he buried himself completely.

“Holy  _fuck_.” The only thing Keith managed were profanities when he felt somehow he should be praying.

Shiro was smooth like silk around him, an impossible heat that sent shivers all the way down to his toes, and Keith keened greedily, desperate for more. Shiro took his face in his hands, smiling down at him with wicked promise as he drew him into another kiss. Shiro  _loved_  kissing, loved tasting his partner, playing his tongue across his teeth and lips, love the hot, wet breath between them, the way Keith’s mouth yielded so sweetly for him. He kept it slow and obscene, leaving Keith panting against his skin as he rose up on his knees and sank down on his cock, and they both groaned.

“Touch me, Keith. Come on. Want you to stroke my cock, make it tight, that’s it,” Shiro hissed, each order almost as beseeching as a plea, but when Keith wouldn’t move fast enough he tugged on his hair and slowed his pace, dragging his stretched out rim up Keith’s shaft at an agonizing pace.

“Yes, yes, fuck  _yesss…”_

Shiro rolled his hips just so, and Keith would’ve promised him anything if it meant he’d never stop, scrambling to obey. He chased his partner’s mouth, mewling like a needy pet as he stroked him, giving him everything he wanted.

Lewd wet sounds passed between them, the squelch of air and lube escaping with every thrust, and Keith’s breathy little gasp, his hoarse pleas for more. Pressure built it his gut, spreading across his belly and groin, incredibly tight, and self control slipped through his fingers like grains of sand. He was babbling, and he didn’t care. He was going to come, he needed to, it was too hot too tight so good. He just needed to-

Shiro pulled off with a guttural moan, his entire body shaking. His thighs trembled as he held himself, Keith’s cock just kissing his wet, fucked out cunt, and he traced the curve of Keith’s mouth with his thumb, wiping it clean. “Not until I get you deeper, okay? You’re gonna hold on for me, Keith. Make me cum on your cock. I want you.”

He rolled Keith before the other man had a chance to say anything, pinning him to the carpet with a filthy kiss. Shiro rolled his hips, slowly dragging his cock against the cut of Keith’s stomach like some private lap dance. It was a tease, daring Keith to take everything he wanted until he was in a frenzy, catching Shiro’s mouth between his teeth and biting down just hard enough to make Shiro gasp.

Keith’s hands gripped Shiro’s ass, digging into the toned flesh and holding him apart as he thrust against the slick cleft. “Come on.” He whispered, teeh bared as Shiro just gave him that infuriating laugh that drove him crazy. “Come  _on_ , I’m going to fuck you until you come for me. I want you to say my name!”

“You’ll have to earn that.” Shiro sat back and sank down onto Keith’s cock until his partner cried out. Keith bucked like a wild thing, no rhythm or skill, just instinct as he drove himself into Shiro. It was deeper at this angle, harder, and even Shiro’s cool control started to crack with every wet slap of skin. The older man panted for breath, skin glistening with a sheen of sweat as his shoulders rolled forward and all he could do was support his weight on his elbows.

Keith’s body pressed against his cock, each thrust rocking against the tight muscles of his abdomen, but it wasn’t enough friction. He’d given Keith every opportunity and the young man had taken it with more enthusiasm than he’d been expecting. Shiro groaned, wracked with pleasure and need until Keith was the one laughing. “F-fuck, you’re better than I thought.” Shiro huffed the words.

“Don’t underestimate me.”

Shiro hissed, but looked up through his lashes, sending Keith a long lascivious look before he dared, “Prove it.”

He leaned back, propping himself on his arms, putting himself on display. His long, muscled chest, athletically toned, broad shoulders tapered into a tiny waist. He was spread wide for Keith’s shaft, obscene, as Keith buried all the way inside him. He couldn’t stop staring. But Shiro wanted him to do a whole lot more.

He spread Shiro’s legs, made his eyes widen as the stretch burned just that side of painful and bucked into him, pounding into his cunt, making Shiro’s entire body jerk with it. At the same time, he bent forward quickly, knocking over his drink, but Keith couldn’t care. He was licking up his lover’s chest, tasting sweat and skin and uniquely Shiro _._  Shiro moaned so prettily.

“Keith, I’m gonna. Just a little bit more, little  _more._ ”

He could feel Shiro trembling beneath him, feel every ragged breath as he buried himself in his core.

Shiro came with Keith’s name on his tongue, and Keith’s teeth on his pulse, shooting thick strands of cum across his belly. His arms buckled, and when Keth pushed him down, he collapsed on the carpet. He kept his legs spread, let Keith bend him in half, his hands on his knees as the thief rabbit fucked into him, quick and fast, his pace erratic and growing more and more desperate with every thrust until he spent himself, groaning breathlessly against Shiro’s skin.

They lay there for a long time, sweat cooling on flushed skin. Keith struggled to catch his breath, as Shiro stroked his hand through his damp hair.

“Oh.” Keith said abruptly staring at the upended can. “Someone’s gonna have to clean up that Sprite.”

Shiro burst out laughing.

Shiro gathered Keith into his arms, picking him up and away from the mess. Keith had been a surprise in every sense of the word, none of this had been anything like Shiro had expected. It left him with a quiet satisfaction, unused to enjoying the lingering afterglow quite so much, and the faintest knot in his stomach. They were virtual strangers, but Shiro was reluctant to let the night end so soon.

He left the tied-off condom and left it on the floor, settling them both in the untouched bed. “That’s why we have maid service.” He murmured as Keith squirmed, embarrassed to be carried so easily.

Keith tangled his fingers into Shiro’s white bangs, damp with sweat, and brushed them back away from his face. He let his fingers trail along the edge of the older man’s jaw, bolder than normal, but always reckless. “I made you say my name.”

The look of shock on Shiro’s face was enough to send him into choked laughter and Shiro joined in a moment later, smacking Keith with one soft pillow. “I gave you that one!”

“Mmhm. You said I had to earn it and I think I did.”

“All right.” Shiro relented, pulling Keith into his arms and kissing his shoulder. “You want me to tell you how good you were? I can stroke your  _ego_.”

“No, you liked it.” There was something in the way Keith said the words that made Shiro pause, something a little too honest in his voice. Keith dragged careful fingers down the scars that crisscrossed Shiro’s chest, trying to read the story in each mark when he finally understood.  _You liked it_ , he’d said.  _You liked me_  was what he meant.

“I did.” Shiro kissed him, sweet and chaste. “I do.”

Keith melted, a satisfied little smile across his face, and Shiro almost wished he could keep it for himself. Long, thick lashes cast shadows across his cheeks, and Shiro traced them carefully, even if Keith wrinkled his nose in unspoken warning. There were bags under his eyes. Shiro would bet he wasn’t getting as much sleep as he should have been.

“Rest,” he urged, kissing Keith’s brow.  _I’m going to be here when you wake up._

But it was just passed dawn when Keith did, tangled in Shiro’s arms. It was warm and comfortable like he couldn’t remember being in so long, and he hated to pull away. He wasn’t sure if Shiro would mind. He could count on either of his hands the number of times he did this, and none of his partners had been quite like Shiro. When Shiro spoke, he felt his voice rumble against his chest.

“Do you have to go?”

Keith froze, unsure of how to answer. By now Sendak’s men should have moved on, but in case they hadn’t, there were safer places to be, even if no where felt quite as safe as tucked under the covers by Shiro’s side. But Shiro wasn’t waiting for an answer, he rolled over to grab a pen off the nightstand. Squinting in the dim light, he took Keith’s hand in his and scribbled a number on the back of his palm.

“Call me sometime.”

“I- really?” Keith couldn’t help himself, and Shiro smiled sleepily up at him before pressing a closed-mouth kiss against his cheek. He was fast asleep by the time his head touched the pillow.

When Shiro woke, barely an hour had passed, but Keith was long gone. He stretched lazily across the bed, testing the muscles that were sweetly sore from last night. Now that had been better than he could have ever expected and he enjoyed the little aches that reminded him of Keith’s touch. _Keith._ Who would have known? Shiro stifled a yawn and checked on his watch before reaching for his phone to make a call.

“Hey, checking in. The client just left, I think it went really well. Mr. Sendak seemed very satisfied.”


	2. Chapter 2

“You have to give me all the details!” Coran hovered close as Shiro stripped off his clothes without any shred of modesty. They were wrinkled and disheveled, a thousand dollar bespoke suit that had spent the night on the floor like it was worth nothing. It didn’t matter, he had a closet full, all high end gifts from various clients. He wasn’t vain, but it was his business to look the part. He was selling himself, after all.

Shiro rolled his eyes as the other man fairly bounced on his toes with excitement. Coran had been his ‘pimp’ for years, though he always balked at the title. He much preferred manager, as if what they did was legitimate. Shiro didn’t care what they called it, the money was good and for right now, that was all that mattered. “You know they all prefer discretion.”

“He’s a different case! Mr. Sendak is one of the most powerful men in the entire city, if he takes a liking to you, then you’re in, Shiro! No more just getting by, you’ll have money, fame, influence. It’ll be the big time.”

“I know what it means, Coran.” Shiro said evenly, tracing his hands down the faint bruising around his hips where Keith had gripped too hard and smiling at the memory. For being the most notorious killer and crime lord in the city, he’d been remarkably different from what Shiro had expected. Coran had been angling to land Mr. Sendak for months, and Shiro had always thought he’d be some sort of rough, cruel, calculating mobster instead of an awkward, honest young man. Either Keith was a better liar than he thought, or Sendak built up his reputation to ward off enemies. No wonder so few people knew what he looked like.

“So you have to tell me!” Coran was bright red and despairing. “Did he like you?”

“I think he liked me a lot. You were right, I’m definitely his type.”

He thought about the careful way Keith touched him, his fingertips dragging across his skin, the needy way his voice broke just so. Yeah. Shiro was his type. There were many, terrifying sides of his client that he didn’t want to think about, many reasons that Shiro shouldn’t even have considered taking such a dangerous risk, but he wanted to see the cautious young man who asked him what he’d wanted and held him so tight as he slept, Shiro thought he’d never let go.

It was professional courtesy not to ask too many questions in their field, to let their clients fill in the gaps in the scenes they sold. Ignorance was supposed to protect Shiro as much as it did whomever he was catering to, but Shiro had never been more ready to accept that then he was now.

“And?” Coran pressed earnestly. Shiro gave him a wide-eyed confused look to disguise his growing annoyance. “Well? Did he close down the hotel? Did he drive in with a gold-plated car?” A beat, then. “Did he bring anyone else, because you know we’d have to change the rates on that.”

“Coran,” Shiro didn’t sigh, but it was a close thing. “I will tell you if anything challenges our bottom line. Don’t worry about it.”

“You know I always worry, Shiro.” His manager protested kindly. “I don’t want you to get  _hurt_.”

Shiro didn’t argue with that. Coran was less tough than not, and more fair than most by far, and he never failed to protect his employees. Shiro knew he was lucky to have him in his corner. He knew all too well how unfortunate others in his line of work could be.

He was saved from a response by his phone went off, and he offered Coran a quick smile, flicking through his texts. “And speaking of the devil, he wants to book another date.”

Coran gasped for him, but Shiro did a double-take, rereading the address he’d been sent, to make sure he had it right. That was a little odd. The message read, among other things,  _‘Meet me in the Park at 2 pm.’_  

“Just put it on his tab. I’ll keep you posted.” 

A day later, Shiro made his way to the front of a large fountain in the middle of the local park. He didn’t expect Keith to already be there. “You’re early.”

“So’re you,” Keith threw back, and held out a cup of coffee.  He had packets of sugar and cream in a paper bag. “I thought you should decide where you wanted to go. The National History Museums over there, and the Space Observatory’s on the other side of the park, but I didn’t want to assume that you’d want…”

Keith trailed off, peering up at Shiro’s face with intense concentration. “I misread this.” He concluded. 

It wasn’t a question.

“You wanted to go on an actual date.” Shiro couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice and watched Keith’s face crumble, the young man immediately covering his mistake with bluster.

“No, it’s okay. I’m sorry, I just-. You know, it doesn’t matter. Coffee’s on me.”

Oh god, the scariest criminal mastermind was  _flustered_. Shiro scrambled to recover, putting an arm on Keith’s shoulder to keep him from bolting. He thought that Sendak’s request had been odd, but he’d learned long ago not to question. Who knew why he wanted to meet in a public place. Maybe he was an exhibitionist, maybe he wanted to start somewhere neutral before whisking Shiro back to his club or his personal apartments. Somehow among all the possibilities, Shiro had never considered that Keith would want to actually go on a date.

Two minutes in and already off balance. No wonder Sendak was so good at what he did. “A date sounds great, actually. How about the Observatory, I heard they had an exhibit of the Kerberos Mission that I wanted to check out.”

Keith looked so relieved that Shiro almost laughed, but kept from crossing that line. Teasing seduction was part of the game, people liked it up to a point, but he didn’t want to offend. This was a delicate path to walk, Sendak could give him everything he wanted or he could ruin him. Killing off a whore who didn’t please him was right up his alley, Shiro just didn’t intend to fail. The rewards outweighed the risks. And besides, a part of him actually  _enjoyed_  this one.

“I wasn’t sure you’d actually show up.” Keith admitted as they strolled across the park. “That night felt so much like a dream that if I didn’t have your number on my hand, I’d have thought I made the whole thing up.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure you have people falling all over themselves for your attention.” Shiro teased and Keith choked out a laugh.

“Not really. In, uh, in my line of work, it’s not really easy to meet people. It’s harder to keep them. I’m not exactly great at dealing with them anyways.”

“That’s not true, I think you’re pretty good at dealing with me.” He was bold enough to drop a kiss to Keith’s temple and was rewarded with a shy smile. “I know what you mean though. I meet a lot of people, but sometimes it’s still hard to connect. It’s been a long time since someone actually wanted to just spend time with me like this. I’m glad you called me.”

Color flooded into Keith’s cheeks, and Shiro was amazed by how easy it was to goad a reaction out of him. “I’m glad I called, too.”

They made their way to the Observatory. There it took Shiro all of three minutes to come to another great realization. Sendak was a fucking nerd. He insisted on seeing the Kerberos exhibit first, and when they were done, almost apologized for it. Shiro returned favor by dragging him to an exhibition on meteor rocks. No one wanted to look at the history of flight; what they cared about was the future of space travel. The past was just something to leave behind. By the end of their tour, it was hard to tell who was dragging who.

They lined up for a twenty-minute show in the planetarium where they sat in plush chairs that were reclined almost completely flat. Shiro casually slipped his hand into Keith’s, slowly tracing his knuckles, not at all bothered by the ones that were missing where they touched. When Keith squeezed back too readily, Shiro decided he didn’t need his hand back. Under countless stars, they played footsie, until Shiro stole a glance at his date. Then he had to look away. The look of open longing on Keith’s face felt too private to intrude on.

“That was one hell of a show.” By the time it was over, Shiro was blinking stars out of his eyes when they hobbled for the door, but Keith wouldn’t stop scowling. Frowning, Shiro asked, “Are you okay?”

“Fine just. Sorta got a headache. Guess I’m not cut out to be an astronaut.”

“I know how to fix that.” Shiro said to Keith’s thankful sigh. “Close your eyes.”

Keith did; the most powerful man in the city, trusted Shiro with everything he had in that moment and it was a thrilling gift to exploit. Shiro leaned forward and kissed him.

Keith gasped, eager for more as he slid his hands through Shiro’s hair, dragging the older man closer. Shiro let himself just enjoy the moment for what it was, simple pleasures with someone who liked him, free from work or responsibility. When he pulled away, Keith was still frozen in time, his eyes closed.

They both jumped when the show attendant cleared his throat.

“There’s a lunar exhibit in the back. Come with me.” He pulled Keith along, who followed passively, still trying to adjust to the fact that the earth had shifted beneath him. The exhibit was dark and empty, lit by a softly glowing replica moon hanging overhead. Shiro slid his hands around Keith’s waist and wondered if this was finally,  _finally_  the time he got lucky.

He had no idea that Keith was thinking the same thing.

They kissed under the false moon, bodies pressed together as Keith wound his arms around Shiro’s neck. Keith didn’t even mind that he had to stretch up on his toes to reach him. “Did you ever make it up there?” Keith asked quietly, filling the quiet spaces between them with questions Shiro hadn’t talked about with anyone in years.

“Once. It was a training mission, I made it right to the edge of the atmosphere. They didn’t let the recruits go any further, but for just a moment…” Shiro’s voice drifted, lost in the memories. “I was so close and it was beautiful. It just goes on forever and it feels like you’re the only one up there.”

“Just once?”

Shiro was quiet, tucking Keith’s face into his neck and swaying together like they were dancing to some slow, inaudible music. “There was an accident. Everyone told me I was the best pilot in the Garrison and I guess I believed it so much that I got cocky. This, all of it, it was my fault.” He held up his hand, the prosthetic better than he could have hoped for, but it didn’t compare to the real thing.

Keith laced his fingers with Shiro’s. “I’m sorry.”

“You know, I was worried it would put you off. I know I appeal to a certain kind of person, but sometimes you can’t tell if it’ll just make someone uncomfortable.”

Keith pulled away to look him in the eye with such solemn focus that Shiro almost backtracked. He was glad he didn’t. “You never have to worry about impressing me.” Keith had a terrible habit of surprising him. He moved in close once more, curling up against Shiro’s chest like he belonged there, and Shiro couldn’t help but wrap his arms around him. “I mostly suck anyway.”

“Dammit, Keith,” Shiro chuckled, dropping a kiss to the curve of his ear, “You’re so much more than I bargained for.”

“I hope I don’t disappoint.” Keith almost sounded wary, that old nervousness creeping back, and Shiro kissed it away, cupping Keith’s face in his hands, until he left him breathless.

“Not at all. Not even a little.” He said, and he was beginning to suspect that Keith needed to hear the words more often than not. Shiro was happy to oblige. He kissed him one last time, felt Keith’s mouth curl into a contented smile against his lips. “But there’s a simulator downstairs that I think you’d like to take for a spin.”

There was a spark in Keith’s eye, a glimmer of challenge that Shiro couldn’t help but falling for. “You want to try the simulator?”

“Yeah, let’s see how good you are. I’ve seen your reflexes, I’m betting you’d be pretty good behind the controls.”

There it was again, something proud and dangerous in his eyes that set something in Shiro on fire. There was the man who ran the city, the one who wanted so badly to fly free even if he never had his chance. There was excitement, a hint of arrogance. Shiro couldn’t wait to put it to the test.

They made their way down to the simulators, Shiro purposely crowding into Keith’s space with his hands tucked into the younger man’s hoodie pockets as Keith laughed and tried to push him away. The exhibit was almost empty and they claimed the simulator for themselves, the bored museum guide sealing them in as the flight controls lit up beneath their hands.

Shiro breathed out, running his fingers over the toggles and switches with a nostalgic smile. It was almost a perfect replication and for a moment he missed that life where he used to dream about the stars until his wings had been clipped so brutally. It could have been him on the Kerberos mission, it should have been. He could have been a hero and now he didn’t know what he was. This wasn’t what he’d planned for his life.

“Show me.”

Keith’s request startled him, but Shiro answered with a smile. “You think I’d do a better job than the narrator?”

“Yes.” No one could ever say Keith wasn’t decisive. They tuned out the narrator’s prerecorded instructions. Shiro supposed he should have been more surprised than he was that all of Keith’s concerns dealt with speed; maneuverability came at a close second. Shiro knew this wasn’t a training-grade simulator. They would never let the general public near one of those, but they were going to squeeze as much speed out of the machine as they could.

The viewscreen went dark. Then they were surrounded by countless stars, and Shiro’s chest ached for a time when they were so much closer. Then Keith found his hand, just for a moment. They were rapidly approaching the frozen red surface that Shiro had seen in screens just like this.

“Thebe.” 

“Jupiter’s moon.” Keith commented. Shiro wanted to know how he knew, but his partner was distracted, whether it was from a click-bait article, or if he spent his days reading about worlds he’d never see. On the screen, a countdown had just started.  

Keith was a racer. 

Shiro could tell. He kept reaching for a gearshift that wasn’t there, pushing the simulator faster. It was slower than what the Garrison used to run, less responsive. Its range of motions were limited, and its graphics weren’t as sharp, but after so long of only watching the sky, it almost felt like the real thing. And Keith really liked being upside down.

Shiro whooped, gunning the fake engine past its red zone as they plunged through the atmosphere. Alarms blared from half a dozen systems, but they demanded more, skilled hands guiding her descent as they streaked through the false sky. They managed to land, faster that Shiro had ever been able to push the simulators at the Garrison, and even in one piece though the simulation score flashed an angry warning at them both.

It felt like forever since he had just let go like this and had fun with the same wild abandon that he’d had years ago. For one last time, it really had felt like he was soaring again.

They tumbled out of the simulator laughing, Shiro throwing his arm around Keith’s shoulders and pulling him close as they gasped for breathe. “You are  _way_  too fast for the Garrison, it would have made you crazy. You’re a speed demon!”

Keith beamed, lips twitched into a wicked smile that Shiro felt suited him. “You should see me on a land speeder. I might not be able to fly, but I can outrace basically everything.”

“I’d like that. I want to see just how fast you can go.” Shiro dropped his voice to a husky growl as he promised, pulse thrumming with adrenaline, “I want to see how fast I can make you go.”

He felt Keith tense beside him, his breath catching in a strangled hiss, and when he met his eyes, they were dark with unspoken need. His hand curled around Shiro’s jacket sleeve, a little too tightly, and Shiro’s mouth went dry.

Then everything happened all at once.

They tumbled over each other to get to the men’s room like they were in the middle of a packed nightclub and not one of the country’s most prestigious museums. Tearing at each other’s clothes, mouths gasping and wanting. Keith’s back hit the wall with a thud, drowned out by the roar of a motion-activated dryer. His voice climbed with every beat, and Shiro took him  _apart_.

He made Keith moan for him, made him groan and writhe as he licked into his mouth, fucking him on his tongue as the younger man clung to him, desperate for the upper hand. Keith always fought dirty, dragging his hands under Shiro’s finely pressed dress shirt and sending a button flying as he tore it open.

Keith’s belt buckle clattered to the ground. He barely stepped out of his jeans and briefs before Shiro was dragging him up and  _up,_  trapping him in his arms, and he had to wrap his legs around Shiro’s slender waist. It was all the wrong angle and Keith dug his hands into Shiro’s shoulders to keep his balance. The bathroom tiles were cold against his back and his skin felt like it was on fire as Shiro bent to kiss his neck, sucking a quick bruise against his pulse. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to tear a hole in Shiro’s expensive shirt and Keith planning on anything but careful. “Fuck me.” He breathed and Shiro was more than happy to obey.

The older man fumbled as he unzipped his pants, practiced hands embarrassingly eager in his rush to touch Keith. He finally freed himself, prosthetic hand holding Keith steady around the waist, the other wrapped tight around them both as he squeezed down around their cocks. He fucked against the tight ring of his hand, dragging his cock in a frantic rhythm against Keith’s who snapped his hips to meet him.

“You’re so fucking  _hot_.” Shiro could have spun a million carefully seductive lines, but there wasn’t time for games or pretty words. He kissed Keith filthy, pressing curses against his lips. “I’m going to ruin you, I’m gonna make you scream for me.”

“You’ll have to earn that,” Keith teased, frustratingly smug, until Shiro made him gasp. 

Precum oozed over the backs of Shiro’s knuckles and dripped down his skin. He paused only long enough to smear it across Keith’s mouth, tracing across the swollen and bitten-red lips before licking it clean with one wet stripe of his tongue. Shiro watched his eyes flutter shut, his head falling back like it was too heavy to hold up, giving him access to so much more that he didn’t ask permission for. He dug his teeth into Keith’s skin, listened as he groaned for him, shameless and eager. The collar of his shirt kept getting in the way, but Shiro made sure to leave bruises where it couldn’t reach, and Keith wouldn’t stop begging him for more.

“I thought you were going to make me work for it.” 

Keith’s grip tightened around Shiro’s shoulders, an animalistic  _snarl_  rising up from his belly. 

“More,” Keith demanded, his heel digging into Shiro’s lower back, cotton socks sliding down over his hips. “Give me more, Shiro, more!”

“More like knowing the door’s unlocked?” Shiro hissed, felt Keith jolt in his arms, fat beads of pre spilling from the tip of his cock, and he slid his other hand lower. Metal was warm but unyielding against Keith’s skin, pressing between the cleft of his ass until the younger man couldn’t’ stop squirming. “Anyone could walk in and see you like this. See me fucking you. Making you beg for  _more_.”

He dragged his teeth over Keith’s throat, biting into the juncture where neck met shoulder. “Maybe they’ll watch. Maybe they’ll see you writhing for me and touch themselves thinking about you. I’d make you cum on my fingers. Make you forget they’re there.”

Keith’s eyes flicked towards the door, nervous,  _excited_ , the thrill of it sending a wave of need crashing through him. “Then you better hurry.” He panted, squirming desperately for friction until Shiro gave him something else to gasp about. Shiro shifted, trying to find his leverage as he pressed Keith back into the stall’s partitions that shook with every desperate thrust against Keith’s body.

“Do you like it when they watch?” Shiro growled, fucking Keith with one metal finger as the young man bit his own lip to keep from crying out. “We could put on a show for them, baby. Make them all jealous. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” A second finger joined the first, plunging deep into Keith’s tight hole. He was trapped, body caught between thrusting against Shiro’s abs and back against the almost too-full feeling where Shiro’s fingers twisted inside of him.

“Shiro-” The name came out in a squeak as Keith grit his teeth, trying to keep his voice down.

“Come on, scream for me. Let them all know how good I make you feel.”

Shiro knew exactly what he was doing, though Keith had no idea how. Deft and wicked fingers sparked a fire in him until he came apart, shuddering as he came across Shiro’s skin in thick spurts. He bit his lip until it bled to keep himself from crying out as release crashed through him. Shiro laughed, thrusting against the slick friction hard enough to make the partitions wobble and the stall door bang against the wall before adding to the mess between them.

Keith collapsed against him, trembling in the aftershocks as pleasure settled into something lazier. Shiro helped the younger man to his feet and wouldn’t go far, crowding him up against the partition as Keith rested his forehead on his shoulder, slowly regaining his breath.

“Oh god.”

“Yeah.” 

Shiro didn’t want to let go. He pressed a kiss against the shell of Keith’s ear, and quietly preened when his partner inched closer. He wanted to take Keith somewhere, somewhere soft and warm where they could collapse on one another and wouldn’t need to move unless it was for a repeat performance. Somewhere he could wrap Keith in heavy blankets, and help him do something about the bags under his eyes.

Keith touched his lip slowly and looked surprised when it came away red. “Woah.”

Shiro was probably more proud than he should have been. “Ye- _ah._ ”

Just when it seemed like Keith could almost manage a complete sentence, the stall on the far end of the bathroom burst open. A red-faced patron pointedly refused to look at them, doing his very best to crawl into his shirt as he raced out of the bathroom. Shiro stared.

And burst out laughing.

Keith made a choked, shocked noise, and shoved his face into Shiro’s chest with a horrible sob. “ _Oh god.”_

Shiro was in helpless giggles and couldn’t even make himself feel ashamed. He curled into Keith, tears streaming down his face as he howled. Keith shushed him indignantly, face bright red, before he scooped up his clothes from the floor and shoved a wad of paper towels at Shiro to clean up.

“We probably made his year!”

“I’m going to die.” Keith said simply, yanking on his clothes and snarling when he tangled in his pants. “This is how I die.”

His face was doing all sorts of things like he couldn’t decide if he was going ashen in horror, or trying for a tomato impression.

Shiro snorted, hooking his fingers under Keith’s chin and kissing the tip of his nose. “Then it’s been a good life.”

Keith tried to scowl harder, but it was impossible when Shiro’s infectious laughter settled around him and finally, he had to give in. They cleaned up the mess before strolling out of the bathroom arm in arm, relaxed and completely at ease.

At least until they ran into the security guard, her arms crossed in disapproval.

“Sirs, I had a complaint about the restrooms?”

“Oh.” Shiro straightened his shirt and ignored the missing button as he took on a more serious tone. “I can explain that officer. It’s a funny story, what actually happened was-  _RUN!”_ He grabbed Keith’s hand before the younger man could do much more than squawk in panic and bolted, dragging him through the museum with the outraged security guard trailing behind. They burst out the front doors and into the late afternoon sun, sprinting through traffic and into the safety of the park beyond.

Shiro didn’t know if someone tripped or if Keith pushed him, but it didn’t matter. They fell over each other and went sprawling in the warm grass, laughing so hard their bruised knees didn’t even sting. Keith was doubled over, wheezing into his chest, and Shiro swung a proud arm around him, beaming for all he was worth around a mouthful of giggles.

“We’re going to be banned from the Observatory,” Keith howled, horrified and delighted in equal measure. “This is not the sort of trouble I get in!”

And just like that, something cold settled in the pit of Shiro’s belly. It was so easy to forget who this man really was, especially when Keith looked at him with such fondness, and Shiro realized he might have wanted to. He leaned up, drawing Keith in so he could bump their noses together, and drew a giddy little laugh out of him. 

“Let me make it up to you,” Shiro said. ”Tomorrow night? if you’re not busy. We should do dinner at my place. I’ll cook. We’ll watch terrible movies. Apollo 13, The Martian, Independence Day.”

“I’m noticing a theme.” Keith huffed, turned away to rub his cheek into Shiro’s chest. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You have a type.” Keith accused.

“Maybe. Definitely.” Shiro relaxed into the grass and smiling up at the sky. He could almost hear Coran’s lectures word for word echoing in his ears,  _don’t fall for a client_. It was sound advice and had never been a question before. With Keith warm and pliant in his arms, Shiro wondered just how deep into trouble he’d gotten himself. 

He wasn’t prepared for the sudden pull in his chest like his heart had caught on something sharp. It punched the air from his lungs with a wheeze as he curled into himself, hand pressed tight against his chest and teeth set in pain. Every beat of his heart was a blade stabbing deep and he groaned, sweat prickling across his brow.

“Shiro? Shiro!” Keith’s hands fluttered uselessly over Shiro’s trembling body, terrified. “What’s going on? How do I help?” He fumbled with his phone, swearing at how his hands shook. “I’m going to call an ambulance, just hang on.”

“N-no. I’m okay.” Shiro ground out between clenched teeth, trying to force himself to breathe. The pain dulled, the sharp agony fading slowly into just a sore ache in his ribs. He exhaled slowly, testing the pain until he was sure he could breathe again. “It’s okay, I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” Keith demanded. He was never comfortable when he didn’t know something, and right now, Shiro was going to pay for his ignorance. “Do you have an - inhaler or? I can still call an ambulance.”

There would be someone who knew first aid at the Observatory, a security guard,  _someone_. Keith would have run all the way to the closest hospital if Shiro hadn’t stopped him when he did, with a gentle hand and tired grimace. 

“It’s okay.” Shiro repeated, and with the color slowly returning to his cheeks, he could almost sell it. Keith didn’t say a word, but Shiro could feel him impatiently awaiting an explanation, hovering over Shiro like he expected a repeat performance. Shiro squeezed his hand and slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. Keith looked like he was about to protest, his face pinched with worry, then he sidled up against the other man and carefully wrapped an arm around his waist. 

Maybe it would be okay.

“After the accident, um…” It was a practiced speech, one Shiro had more than ample time perfecting. Everyone had wanted to know every gory detail of his accident, but with his prosthetic tucked safely between his and Keith’s bodies, it almost didn’t feel like enough. “It happens sometimes. It gets hard to breathe, the other - things. They say its normal.”

His flippant tone lasted for all of a second.

“It doesn’t stop me from doing what I do.” Shiro added hastily. He broke an unspoken rule, reminding Sendak of the illusion they carefully crafted, but he worried that his employer would see this as grounds to replace him. “It’s just…”

Shiro couldn’t finish. Keith tucked his face against Shiro’s shoulder hissing, “Dammit, you scared me.”

Shiro wrapped his arms around him, tension slowly draining from his bones. He’d worked so hard for this and if he blew things with Sendak now, then all of his carefully laid plans would have been for nothing. He couldn’t mess this opportunity up with so much on the line. And maybe, a bigger part of himself than he wanted to admit was just simply afraid of losing Keith so soon when they were just getting to know each other.

He kissed the side of Keith’s face, letting them both settle back into the grass as the late afternoon shadows lengthened and tried to sooth away his worries. “I’m okay, I’m sorry I worried you. I’m still fine.” Shiro rolled them over, pinning Keith back against the earth and tipped his head back to kiss down his client’s neck, revising all the places he already bore Shiro’s mark. Anything to reestablish the easy fantasy and distract from his own nerves.

A few squirming, ticklish kisses and Keith was smiling again. “You’re kind of an ass.”

“Only when I need to be. So, about that date tomorrow with you coming over to my apartment for all the most awesomely terrible space movies I can think of?”

This time it was Keith who raised his eyebrows, mimicking Shiro. “A real date?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want.”

 

* * *

 

When Shiro got home, he couldn’t keep the satisfied smile from his face. He draped his ruined shirt over the back of a chair and grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge as Coran took the opportunity of an unlocked door to barge into his apartment.

“So?” He asked impatiently. “How did it go?”

“Better than I thought.” Shiro said, casually tossing a second bottle of beer to his manager and flopped on the couch to relax. “He’s not like I thought he’d be. I think-, this might actually work out.” He said, taking a swig.

Coran popped open the bottle and frowned at Shiro. “You’re happy.”

“Of course I’m happy, I had a good day, I enjoyed myself. What’s not to be happy about?”

Coran just squinted in suspicion, pointing his bottle at Shiro. “You like him.”

“He has a nice dick,” Shiro clarified, never missing a beat, and also just to see Coran sputter like a scandalized nun. His manager was very scandalized by insubordination. “Honestly, this job is just a lot easier than I expected it to be, and it’s nice to have a low maintenance client. Funny how everyone you book me with  _isn’t.”_

“Now I know you’re happy. You think you’re funny.” Coran scowled, and Shiro couldn’t help but laugh. “We got a call from his contact. Mr. Sendak would like to apologize for your date. He says he’s going to make it up to you tomorrow. That sounds like double the price if you ask me.”

That should have been good news, except talking about his rates right now made Shiro feel vaguely ill. “It’s a good thing you don’t need to be asked. Besides…”

He cast a satisfied glance towards his ruined shirt. “There’s really nothing to apologize for.”

“Just make sure you’re ready for him tomorrow night, I’m not going to remind you how much depends on this. And Shiro, be careful with this one.”

Shiro toasted him with his beer bottle and grinned. “I always am.”


	3. Chapter 3

When Keith entered his apartment, there was a sleep-deprived grad student surrounded by a mountain of empty Thai takeout containers on his couch. Four days ago, when he was last home, he’d left his roommate the exact same way. If the pizza boxes hadn’t been cleared out, he’d have bet that Hunk hadn’t moved the whole time he’d been gone.

 “Oh… You’re alive.”

Big owl eyes looked up from behind a pair of ridiculous glasses as Hunk tore his attention away from his laptop. He was possibly the smartest guy Keith knew, and Keith hoped that his university allocated housing funds towards his scholarship before he got knifed in their hallway. They didn’t live in a great neighborhood, but rent was cheap, and their landlord thought Keith’s name was John Smith. Most importantly, no one noticed or cared that Keith spent the better part of his week not coming home. Hunk hid his laptop under his dirty laundry when he wasn’t toting it around.

“Your boyfriend asking again?”

“Don’t worry, I kept Lance outta your room. Dude, welcome back.”

His room didn’t have anything worth taking, but he valued his privacy all the same. In their relationship, Hunk was the brains and beauty. Lance was the asshole.

Keith grunted a reply and pulled open the refrigerator door, squinting at the meager contents. He sighed and checked the old takeout containers for something edible and grabbed a can of soda before hip checking the door closed. 

Hunk watched him curiously over the rims of his glasses. Whatever Keith was into, he didn’t really want to know, but he liked his roommate. He was quiet and neat, well, neater than Hunk was. It didn’t hurt that he was out of the apartment most of the time and Hunk could have the place for himself and his best friend. But Keith looked a little more ragged than normal, the smudges dark under his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

The only answer was another grunt as Keith shoved cold sesame chicken into his mouth. 

“You look like crap. Sorry.” Hunk apologized immediately for the insult, even if he meant well. “You should maybe take a nap or something. There’s nothing going on here tonight, it should be fine. Go lie down for a while?”

“Oh.” Keith touched his face self-consciously, but he was sort of flattered his roommate noticed. He didn’t have many people in his life, but he had Hunk. Maybe his concern only spread as far as paying their electric bill on time, and Keith didn’t think they’d ever spent any time with each other outside the apartment, but Hunk was a good guy who fed him whenever he had extra food and tended to bake a lot when he was stressed and not broke. Keith appreciated him.

“I’ve been stressed. I-”  _I didn’t know if I was being followed. I didn’t want to lead them back here. I was taking terrible risks and don’t plan on stopping._  “I have a date.”

“Oh. Ohhh, dude, don’t worry, I get it. That’s super cool. Hey, do you need me to get out of here? Or just be less,” Hunk gestured to the sprawling mess that was his thesis research. It had taken over their coffee table, and the mismatched sofas that they independently brought in. “Less this.”

“No, it’s okay.” Keith started to smile. Then the front door burst open to reveal a gangly jerk, and Keith immediately stopped.

“Hey look, it’s the elusive roommate!” Lance made a camera with his hands, shoving them obnoxiously in Keith’s face and pretending to take his picture. He faked an Australian accent for effect.  “I thought it was extinct, look at it. It’s a beauty!”

“Hunk, I’m going to hit your boyfriend.” Keith deadpanned as Hunk hustled over and tucked Lance into his armpit.

“Please don’t hit the boyfriend.” He said cheerfully, dragging a flailing Lance back over into the living room. “I’m going to need him for stuff later. You should eat the rest of the leftovers and then take a nap. You want to make sure you’re at your best for your date.”

Lance squirmed free, excitement in his eyes as he seized the opportunity and Keith groaned. _Damn it, Hunk._  “A date?” Lance crowed. “Ooooh, who’s the poor loser you conned into going out with your boney ass? You know, keeping a big knife in your pants isn’t really the way to someone’s heart unless, you know, you’re being literal about it.”

“Shut up.”

Lance just leaned in as close as he could, spine more noodle than bone. “C’mon, spill. I want to know what kind of deranged person wants to go out with you.” 

“I hate you.”

“Right back at’cha, mullet head.” Lance snarled, before turning back to Hunk. His expression changed almost instantly, softening with overwhelming affection as he moved into his best friend’s space and plucked his glasses off his face to wear them instead. Hunk squished him into the couch, laughing, and Keith hoped none of the papers surrounding them were important because now they were covered in loser. From the kitchen, he caught snippets of their conversation. 

_“Missed you.” “Missed you too.” “Is it September because I’m gonna bang you like a storm door against the wall.”_

Keith were glad they were only snippets, but for all that he let cold noodles distract him, a twinge of something far too heavy to name settled in his chest.

“How do you do that?” He asked.

“What?” Hunk replied, apparently immune to Lance’s attempts at seducing him. Keith ignored Lance on principle as he pulled the words together. He still thought they were lacking, but Hunk asked, and well, he wanted to know.

“Tell him. Tell someone you like him.” Keith grumbled. He felt like it should have been obvious already, but Shiro was blowing everything he knew about people out of the water. 

Hunk looked so sympathetic, Keith started to squirm. “Aw, dude _._  Okay. This is what you do. You go up to him, and you tell this guy, it’s a guy right? You tell him that from this day on, you’re going to be the Keith to his heart, and I guarantee that’ll work out for you. Hey where you going?”

Keith turned around and walked into his room without another word.

 

* * *

 

Keith hesitated outside of Shiro’s door, double and triple checking the address. He knocked softly, still unsure, and nearly jumped out of his skin when the door swung open. When he saw Shiro standing there, he nearly jumped _him_  instead.

He wasn’t the polished perfect man in a thousand dollar suit with flawlessly tailored style. Instead, he was dressed down in faded jeans and a t-shirt that stretched a bit too tightly across Shiro’s broad shoulders. His hair was slightly mussed and his scars were on display, though Shiro shifted slightly as if realizing he might have made a mistake. He’d never been so casual, so honestly himself.

Keith’s heart leapt into his throat and he could swear he was in love.

“Are you-, is this okay? I can go change.” Shiro pulled away slightly, but Keith shook his head and crowded into the apartment.

“No! You look great, seriously. I mean, wow.” 

Shiro laughed and relaxed slightly, letting Keith into his apartment and closing the door behind them. It was a big space for an apartment downtown, one wall of windows overlooking the city lights flickering on as the sun went down. Everything was high end from the furniture to the clothes, and Keith whistled low in appreciation.

“Here, catch.” Shiro tossed a beer bottle at Keith who caught it with only a minimal amount of fumbling. “Make yourself at home.”

Keith looked at the bottle and barely fought back the urge to scowl. Imported beer, it looked pricey, and Keith was never much of a drinker to begin with. Watching the easy way Shiro threw his beer back, however, destroyed retreat as an option. 

“There’s curry on the stove, and the rice is almost done. If you don’t like it though, pizza can be here before we get halfway through the movie.” Shiro sounded as relaxed as ever, but there was something in the way he held himself that had Keith following him into the kitchen and pressing into his space. Their shoulders touched, and Shiro leaned into him, just a little, and Keith marveled over how easy this was. 

“Smells delicious. I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in… like forever.” He mumbled, turning into Shiro’s shoulder, and wiggling closer. He wondered if Hunk’s cooking counted, but he was content. Until Shiro uncapped his beer for him, and Keith frowned into his shirt.

“If you like it, we can make a habit of it,” Shiro offered. “I like to throw things together sometimes.” It was too soon to ask, and Shiro felt embarrassed for making the offer, but he couldn’t help it. He’d had many customers over the years, from those who wanted him for ten intense minutes, to those who played elaborate games that could last for weeks as long as the price was right. Getting prepared for a client had never felt so natural.

“Depends.” Keith started. “How terrible are your movie picks?”

“I thought we’d start with Spaceballs and go from there?” Shiro looked so proud of himself that Keith couldn’t help but laugh. He finally relented and took a sip. If he was going to embarrass himself, it was nice that Shiro had already beaten him to it. The taste still made him grimace.

“You have the worst taste.”

“I like you, what does that say?” Shiro pressed a kiss to the side of Keith’s head and enjoyed the way the younger man flushed at the compliment. Keith covered up his fluster by taking another long drink and hoping he didn’t burst into flame. Shiro let him go to check on the dinner and Keith settled himself on the couch, letting his eyes roam around the apartment. A week ago, if he’d found himself in a place like this, it would only be because he’d broken in to steal things. Now he was an invited guest.

“You have a really nice place.” He called back to Shiro who ladled curry over bowls of rice and joined Keith on the couch.

“Thanks.” Shiro tucked one leg under himself and leaned into Keith’s space. “It’s better with you in it.”

The flush was back, deeper than ever. It wasn’t fair when Shiro could switch so effortlessly between dork and suave that Keith couldn’t keep up with him. He felt like he was floundering, struggling to find the words to explain how he felt and nothing seemed to do the ache in his chest justice. Keith stammered for a moment before blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “That’s because I’m the Keith to your heart.”

_Oh god. Damn it, Hunk!_

Shiro lost it. Keith puffed up like a singing canary, and shoved a mouthful of curry into his face, only to choke and wheeze when it burned his tongue. There were  _tears_ in Shiro’s eyes. After Keith died, he hoped he could stick around just to haunt his roommate for the rest of Hunk’s natural life.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Shiro rasped, grasping at his chest, and if he had another attack, Keith was going to call the ambulance and then maybe throw himself off of the balcony. He’d deserve it. “It’s just, wow.”

Keith scowled into his plate.

“I know this is strange because of how things are between us, but I just like being around you.” His heart was banging against his rib cage, aching to be free, and Keith couldn’t take the way Shiro was looking at him. “Nothing has to change if you say no - or yes. I like the arrangement we have, but I just want to see where this goes.” 

Keith swallowed thickly, cursed himself for ever being born. They hadn’t even started the movie. How could he ruin a date so quickly? A real date, even! He didn’t want to hear Shiro’s answer, too afraid that he’ be sent out.

“Mmm. This is really good curry,” he said instead, even though it was a little too salty, and he couldn’t taste anything because his tongue hurt.

Shiro watched him carefully, trying to gauge his reaction before settling beside Keith with a small smile. He was walking on a tightrope and one misstep could send everything tumbling down. This was supposed to be a fantasy, but Shiro was taking a risk at letting real feelings cloud his work. It was just so hard to remember that Keith was just a job. 

He took the initiative, gently pulling the bowl from Keith’s hands and setting it on the table. “Just tell me what you want.” He asked, brushing his thumb along the blush in Keith’s cheek. He closed the gap between them before Keith could answer, kissing him deeply. Keith’s lips tingled and he wasn’t sure if it was from the spice or the feel of Shiro pressed against him.

It didn’t take much cajoling before Keith’s hands slid up Shiro’s spine, stripping off the t-shirt and exploring the broad expanse of his back. Hard muscles moved under soft skin, crisscrossed with rough scars that cut deep. Each one told a story he tried to piece together as he settled back into the couch with a sigh and drew Shiro down with him.

A sharp knock on the door startled them both as Coran’s voice called out. “Shiro? Mr. Sendak is here for your appointment.”

The room was shocked into silence so thick Shiro could feel it settling over his skin like a blanket, and when he looked down, he saw his horror splashed across Keith’s face.  _No!_

When he started moving, Keith was right behind him. He grabbed both their bowls and Keith grabbed their bottles off the table, their clothes in his other hand and his shoes on top of them. Shiro’s expression twisted in anger as he mouthed, “ _Hide!”_  

Shiro put everything in his closet, dropping the bowls on the ground and hastily looking through his wardrobe.

“Shiro! Are you there?” Coran singsonged through the door, sounding positively chipper as Keith ran around the room, looking for a place to hide. Shiro would’ve helped, but his head was stuck in a sleeve and it wouldn’t come out.

“Shiro, my boy! It’s not nice to keep our valuable guest waiting!”

There was a long, loud ripping sound as Shiro tore the seams of his shirt off, and Keith gasped at him. Then the thief was all over him, tugging the shirt off his head and elbowing his way into the closet. Shiro swore heatedly, caught a glance of himself in the mirror and made a decision. He pulled his jeans lower on his hips, cursing everything. Coran sounded like he would break down the door, just as Shiro yanked it open.

Keith turned off the closet light.

“Mr. Sendak…” Shiro greeted, just a little breathless as he took in the fine lines of a crisp suit. It made his gut twist nervously, but he lowered his gaze before slowly and surely dragging his eyes across the stranger’s body. Shiro was a tall man, but Sendak loomed over him, a thick wall of punishing muscle. 

Exactly what he expected.

When Shiro met his gaze, he turned it into a challenge, letting a leer crawl across his face. Sendak responded in kind. “I thought you’d be dropping by… later.”

“I was eager to meet you since our last rendezvous fell through.” Sendak let himself into the apartment like he owned it. “There was a _rat_ problem that needed my attention.”

“That’s alright, I know you’re a very busy man.” The charm was back, an instinct, and settling over him like a second skin. The young man who’d stripped himself bare to let a client see the real him was gone, replaced by skilled seduction and a knowing smile. He closed the door on Coran who kept stringing muffled words together and gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up behind Sendak’s back, before he turned to face his client. “I’m just glad you had time to see me tonight.”

Sendak strolled through the apartment and Shiro felt his chest tighten in fear as his eyes swept over closet and, oh god, Keith’s shoe was laying in the middle of the floor where they must have dropped it in their rush. Shiro sauntered close, pressing the long line of his body against the crime lord’s suit. Okay, so he wasn’t dressed to impress but he could work with this. If Coran was right about Sendak’s taste, a little skin might be the perfect distraction.

Large hands settled around Shiro’s waist as Sendak examined his prize, never realizing Shiro slowly pulled him until his back was to the closet. “I see Coran wasn’t wrong about you, you’re quite the looker.”

“I’m glad you approve.” He purred, sliding his arms around Sendak’s neck. “Though you’re free to do more than just look.”

Sendak thumbed against the scars along his lower back and gave Shiro a smile that had him shivering. “You look like you can take a lot of punishment. I might have to test that out, add a few marks of my own to your collection.”

Sendak ran his hand over Shiro’s metal arm, focusing on the point where metal dug into human skin, and Shiro’s smile tasted like plastic in his mouth. It was uncomfortable, but he didn’t protest, skillfully disguising his unease as he tilted his jaw at a rakish angle. “Only if you can make them last.”

Sendak snarled, and yanked Shiro closer, crashing into him in a frantic, vicious kiss. He bit into his mouth, cruel and greedy, taking everything he wanted. Shiro groaned his encouragements, but his eyes narrowed to slits over Sendak’s shoulder. Keith tentatively poked his head out of the closet, wearing the unhappiest glower, and Shiro frantically pointed towards the fire exit.

Keith glowered harder and gestured to Sendak’s back before dragging his thumb across his throat in the universal symbol of  _death._

Shiro gestured again just as Sendak sank his teeth into his shoulder and Shiro groaned, throwing his head back. His body arched against his client’s without his consent and Sendak smiled, running his tongue across the skin that was just getting ready to bruise.

“You respond well to pain, I like that. With the right training, you’ll beg for it.”

“Sir?” Shiro’s voice was strangled and he kept his eyes locked on Sendak as he signaled to Keith behind his back. Keith just shook his head again and ducked back inside the closet. Even with Shiro distracting Sendak, running too dangerous. If they were caught, then they’d both wide up dead. Keith pressed himself back among the clothes and held his breath, staying a silent as possible.

“I think we’ll have to negotiate with Coran, he doesn’t like to have his merchandise damaged.” Dark eyes flickered to the closet again, nerves showing for only a second before he dragged his hands down Sendak’s chest. “A date like that is going to take me a little time to prepare for. It’s just business, you know how that is.”

“Then you’ll be happy to hear that I’ll be speaking with your manager.” There was a mocking laughter in his tone, and Shiro had never been particularly fond of Coran’s title, but he had to squash the urge to defend it now. “I’ll be the only one you have to prepare for now. I don’t like sharing.”

Shiro smiled sweetly as Sendak cupped his chin, tilted his head obediently to give into his client’s scrutiny. His strong fingers pressed against his pulse, closing around his throat, and for a moment, Shiro didn’t dare breathe. Whatever Sendak saw seemed to please him. “You’d look pretty in a collar.” He said, squeezing down just so, and when Shiro swallowed, he felt his palm against his throat. I’d like to decorate you in many,  _pretty_  things, pet. Would you like that?”

“Yes, sir,” Shiro whispered, voice made rough by the pressure on his throat, but he kept his gaze steady, refused to squirm. With how Sendak looked at him, he suspected he’d made the right call.

“If you’re good, I’ll cover you in ice. Do you think you can be good for me?”

“I can be anything you want me to be.” Shiro felt like he was going to be sick. He’d expected the worst with Sendak but then Keith had-, it had been different and now the real Sendak touched him with hands that itched to rip him apart. He wasn’t a stranger to demanding clients, some of them got off on control or restraints, just like others got off on being dominated. It was all a game, and if they paid Coran enough, he went along with whatever they desired.

But Sendak looked at him like he wanted to make him bleed, and Shiro felt a small coil of fear tighten around his chest. This had been what he’d been chasing for so long, Shiro hoped he didn’t’ come to regret it.

“What if I want you to be on your knees for me? What if I want a whole room watch as you beg and humiliate yourself for me?” Sendak tipped his head up further with one meaty finger and Shiro couldn’t keep himself from jerking back, revulsion clear on his face before he managed to hide it beneath the charming mask. 

Sendak seized on it, fisting his hand into Shiro’s hair and yanking back hard. “There it is, I saw that. You can drop the act now. I like it better when you fight.”

With a quick twist, Shiro broke Sendak’s grip and slammed his hand into the crime lord’s chest to send him stumbling back a step. He panted for air, watching Sendak with wild eyes. The man just laughed and smoothed his hands over his suit, looking more pleased than anything at Shiro’s reaction. “You’re much more interesting than even your manager promised. I’ll go talk to him about having you delivered to me tomorrow. I am a fair businessman after all.”

Shiro’s smile was icy, and Sendak trailed his knuckles down his cheek, following the line of his jaw until he could press into the sore spot he’d left earlier with possessive pride. “Don’t you dare disappoint me, boy.”

He let himself out of the apartment, and Shiro didn’t move until he heard his footsteps fade, and the elevator door ding down the hall. Keith didn’t have the same patience. He burst through the closet with one shoe on, eyes bright with panic. A part of Shiro envied him. He was too tired for panic.

“What are you doing!? Do you know who that was?” Keith hissed, getting up in Shiro’s face. His voice trailed off, but his eyes narrowed as he focused on the angry red marks across his throat. 

Shiro snapped, rounding on him. “Who’s he? Who’re you!”

“I’m Keith.” He sounded so hopeless, Shiro laughed in his face. It was a bitter, angry sound.

“You were supposed to be him _._ ”

“Sendak?! How the hell do you think I was supposed to be Sendak? He runs a fricking crime ring, do you get that? All the robberies, the extortion, that jewel heist last month, all him. Hell, half the murders in the city are on his orders!” Keith crossed his arms tightly over his chest, afraid he might try to shake some actual sense into Shiro. “That guy is a monster!”

“And I’m a whore.” Shiro snapped and Keith’s jaw dropped, stunned into silence. “I was waiting for him that night in the hotel and then you showed up playing along and I thought you were  _him_. Jesus Christ.” He rubbed his hand across his face and slumped against the back of the couch.

It took a moment and several hard swallows before Keith was able to find his voice. “You went out with me because you thought I was paying you?”

Shiro didn’t answer, trying to work through the mess. It was a dangerous job, but he’d been ready. He needed this score, Keith had screwed the whole thing up with his bad timing and his damned smile. 

“So none of it was real? Shiro, say something!”

It would be so easy to send Keith packing. It was written all over his face, and Shiro had always been good at reading people. After a few years in this business, he was almost an expert. Yet he hesitated, watching the younger man fidget. There was a curry stain on his shirt. Shiro remembered how much he’d hoped Keith would like it.

“Go home, Keith,” he said at length. “I have a real date to get ready for.” He already dreaded it. Sendak wasn’t looking for a sub. He was looking for someone to hurt. Shiro wanted a scalding hot shower to forget the last twenty minutes had just happened.

But Keith wouldn’t be swayed. He moved to Shiro’s side, frustration and worry painting a poignant picture on his face. “This is dangerous Shiro. He’s not like, like other people. He’s dangerous.” 

If Keith just said it enough, maybe Shiro would understand. Shiro almost reached out. He wanted to draw Keith into an embrace and not let go until morning, and he thought that Keith would let him. “It’s more dangerous if you stay.”

Keith snorted. “He already wants me dead. It can’t get any worse for me.”

Shiro’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Keith. “What do you mean he wants you dead?”

“I screwed up and caught his attention.” Keith shrugged his shoulder too casually, acting braver than he felt. “I’m just some guy making a living and paying all my dues to the guys in charge so the sharks out there don’t notice me. Guess it didn’t work.” 

This was the worst possible scenario, Shiro didn’t know how they could have gotten buried so deep when things had been going so well just moments ago. He bowed his head and his body shook as Keith took a half step forward, uncomfortable.

“Shiro?”

The older man sat back on the couch, laughing silently so hard that he couldn’t breathe. He finally sucked in air enough to wheeze. “You’re on Sendak’s shit list and you’ve been spending the last couple of days pretending to be him so you can fuck his whore. Oh god, this is terrible.”

“It’s not funny!” Keith said indignantly. “I didn’t do it on purpose, I just thought, I mean, I thought you and I…I thought you liked me. This isn’t some kind of joke.”

“Of course it is, we’re both going to die if anyone finds out about this.” Shiro sobered enough to wipe the tears from his eyes. “You need to go. I won’t tell Sendak about the mix up and we can both pretend that nothing happened.”

“You still didn’t answer my question.”

“What do you want me to say, Keith? It’s a job, you were-” Shiro sighed. “This job is always about being whoever your client wants you to be to make a buck. With you, I felt like I could actually be myself. But that doesn’t matter, we both know this can’t go anywhere now.”

“But you want it to,” Keith said, a twinge of desperation darkening his tone.

“What I want doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

The worst part was that Shiro believed it. An uncomfortable silence grew between them, and Shiro watched Keith’s expression fall, slowly at first, then all at once. He read resignation in his eyes. Shiro had a bad history of hating when he got what he wanted. 

“Was any of it real?” Keith asked softly, but Shiro wouldn’t look at him. He’d never met anyone quite like Shiro, someone who’d made him feel so comfortable. He’d fallen fast and hard for someone he trusted, and even though he knew this was the end of their story, Keith wanted to believe that their connection had still been possible. “That’s all I want to know.”

Shiro looked down at his hands as they curled into fists. He was quiet for so long that Keith didn’t think he would answer. Then he whispered, “Yeah. It… Too much of it was real.”

Keith’s stomach plummeted, tied up in knots and throbbing in his middle. Shame spread up his neck, leaving him flushed and warm. He didn’t expect it to hurt this much. Then again, he’d never expected anyone like Shiro. “Thank you. I’ll go. I’ll…” He trailed off, looking towards the door. “Just be careful, Shiro. I hope it all works out for you.”

“Wait.” Shiro’s hand caught Keith’s elbow to keep him from running. This was stupid, Sendak was too dangerous to double cross and Shiro needed to see this through, but it had been so long since he let himself want anything so selfishly. The right decision was the easy one, let Keith walk out the door and don’t look back. It was the only way to save them both.

Instead, he pulled Keith into his arms and kissed him, slow and sweet, all the ways Sendak wasn’t. How could he have ever thought this man could have been a killer? “We didn’t get to finish our date.”

“You think this is a good idea?” Keith’s lips were shined with wet, cheeks still pinked with pleasure. He still stared at Shiro like he’d lost his mind. 

“Absolutely not, but Sendak is business and you…” He smiled and traced one metal finger down the side of Keith’s cheek. “You’re not supposed to fall for your clients, that’s the number one rule. But you’re not a client. I like you, Keith. Probably too much.”

“He’s going to hurt you if he finds out.”

“And he’s going to kill you if he finds you, so we’re both fucked. I still owe you a date, can I make it up to you?”

Keith pressed in closer and hugged him tight, burying his face in the hollow of Shiro’s throat. They fit well together, and Keith wondered if pulling away would hurt as much as he thought it would.

“Do we have to watch Spaceballs?”

Shiro laughed, startled into delight, and the thief quietly cheered, ridiculously proud of his victory. Shiro rolled him over, pinning him to the couch with a hard won smile. It was the start of the best date Keith had ever had. They made a memory that would keep him going in the future, when he faced pain and loss, and the hardest goodbye he’d ever known.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time Shiro returned home, it was late in the afternoon and his muscles felt like lead. His legs protested with every step, and whined when he stood still. Unlocking his own apartment door seemed to take forever, his fingers were clumsy and fumbling. For a moment, he was sure that he wouldn’t make it in time, that his knees would give way, and he’d embarrass himself in the middle of the hallway. Then his door creaked open, and he stumbled inside.

He kicked off his shoes, dropped his clothes on the floor, and reached for the towel he set out earlier. It came with a pack of muscle reliever. His abdomen was a mess of purple and blue that prickled with every twitch of motion. Sendak was very particular about his preferences. At the end of each session, he was left physically aching and emotionally numb. He thought he’d get used to it over the weeks, but Sendak kept finding ways to push him further, trying to find his breaking point. Shiro took it all, determined to hang on to this contract for as long as possible.  He’d never had more money than he did at this one moment, all the work was worth it.

He needed a shower, but moving farther than the couch felt impossible. He collapsed into it readily and drifted without meaning to, a cushion tucked under his head, vaguely wondering if he could get a blanket but already half-asleep.

Then his laptop started to beep and Shiro groaned, pulling himself off of the couch. He had almost forgotten.

Sometimes the calls came twice a month, sometimes three times, but like clockwork, they all came after a quick trip to the bank. Shiro could feel his stomach tying into knots, but he plastered a smile on his face before he answered.

On the other end of the line, Katie looked tired.

“Hi, is it Katie today?” He noticed her purple dress, but it was always better to be sure. Sometimes when she was feeling more like Pidge, they still preferred dresses. 

She nodded, frowning into the camera as she took in his appearance without a word. Shiro knew what he must look like without checking, after a ‘date’ with Sendak, he tended to avoid looking at himself in mirrors until he had a chance to put himself back together again. He tipped the laptop up so she could only see his face.

“Mom got the money you sent. It’s a lot, Shiro.”

“I owe you both more than that.”

Katie’s scowl deepened. “You don’t owe us anything, nothing you do is going to bring them back!” She snapped and Shiro closed his eyes, taking one deep breath. They’d had this argument a thousand times, the outcome was always the same. It didn’t matter that the Garrison had ruled the crash was due to equipment failure, he had been the pilot and the safety of the crew was on his shoulders. He could have done something different, found another way. He replayed the crash over and over again in his head, but it never changed the outcome. Kate’s father had died in the accident, her brother clung to life in a coma for the last several years, and Shiro had walked away.

The Holts had lost everything and even with Katie’s pride on the line, they needed help. Shiro had taken so much from them, it was the least he could do to make sure they were taken care of now. Katie was a genius, he was going to do everything possible to make sure they could afford every opportunity for her even if it killed him. These days, it might.

“Why don’t you tell me how you’re doing in school these days. You finish that big project you were working on?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Katie said, straightening her stance, her mouth pressed into a thin line. “Mom’s picking up more hours, and I’m getting scholarship money in the fall. We’re doing  _fine,_  Shiro. We’re moving on because we have to and we’ll be okay again because we can take care of ourselves, not because of your handouts. We forgave you a long time ago. We don’t need this anymore.”

She had a way of talking that made herself seem so much older than she was, the unhappy result of terrible loss and brave determination. Shiro wondered how their case against the Garrison was going, but he knew better than to ask. He didn’t say that it was good Mrs. Holt only needed more hours and not a second job.

If Shiro didn’t know the truth, then he might have believed her.

Hospital bills piled up and even with insurance, there was no way to pay. Matt needed round the clock care, it was more than they could afford even with Mrs. Holt working as hard as she could. The Garrison payout hadn’t been close to enough and the Holts’ lawsuit had been delayed for years. They never gave up hope that Matt could wake up again, but keeping him alive sent them spiraling deep into debt. Every dime Shiro made he sent to help cover the costs. With Sendak’s contributions, he could finally make sure Matt was taken care of.

“How’s Matt doing?” His voice was soft, too exhausted to argue. Katie’s anger faded, replaced with a fragile, desperate sort of hope that made Shiro wish he could reach out and hug her through the screen. 

“They say his brain function has spiked. I know he’s still in there even if he can’t say anything, he’s going to wake up again. When I talk to him, I know he can hear me.”

“Tell him I’m thinking about him, okay? I’ll try to stop by and visit him soon.”

Katie fidgeted with a small unhappy noise. “You could come by here too, I’m sure mom would be happy to see you. It’s been a long time.”

“I’ll try,” Shiro said, the same way he did every time she asked. And every single time, he didn’t show up. It had been months since he’d seen Matt, but sometimes he sent chocolates. The favorite chocolate nougats they used to keep in their dorm room. Matt’s favorite.

Katie hung up not long after, and Shiro knew that he’d receive a letter in the mail, two or three days later from her mother, thanking him for his efforts. He kept them all in a stack in his dresser, tucked away from prying eyes, including his own.

With Katie’s words ringing in his ears, sleep wouldn’t come easy. Instead he undid the attachments of his arm, and dragged himself to his washroom, turned the water up to scalding and let the heavy steam weigh him down. He would’ve spent the rest of the day there, leaning against the wall, with his head pressed against cool tile if the doorbell hadn’t rung.

Shiro considered just letting it ring, but whoever was at the door was impatient and obviously unwilling to take no for an answer. He grabbed a robe, draped it over his shoulders on his way out, and came face to face with someone wearing an ill-fitting pizza delivery uniform.

“I didn’t order anything.” Shiro all but growled.

The delivery guy squinted. “This can’t be right. There’s no way Keith scored a dude this hot.”

“Wait, what?” Shiro was too tired to try and process the pizza delivery boy’s words as Lance pushed his baseball cap up to get a better look at Shiro in a towel and whistled low.

“Buddy, is he threatening you in some way? Stalking you? It would probably be just like him to find some hottie and creep from the shadows. He  _does_  carry around a big knife in his pants, did you know that?” He stepped into Shiro’s apartment and set a pizza box on the table, looking around. “Geez, nice place.”

“Who are you?” Shiro set himself in front of Lance, narrowing his eyes. “You have five seconds to answer. 5, 4, 3-”

Lance held up his arms, backing towards the door. “I’m just the lookout, bro! Mullet-head sent me in here to make sure the coast was clear before whatever little secret meeting you had planned. You just seem really out of his league, he can be a real jerk sometimes. Did I mention the big knife in his pants?”

“Lance!” A solid wall of muscle barreled through open door and knocked Shiro off his feet, squishing him flat. “Back off him!”

Shiro  _oofed_ , completely bowled over, his arm and legs splayed in every direction.

“Lance, run I’ll hold him back!”

“Hunk, what are you doing?!!” Shiro had never been more grateful (baffled?) to hear Keith’s voice, and suddenly, the weight on his chest was lifted as Keith helped the tall boy with floppy, soft looking hair to his feet. “I asked you to check if he was alone, not attack him!”

“He gave Lance a countdown. He was counting down! You don’t count down to good things, this is not a surprise party, Keith!” Hunk gestured wildly, and Keith shot a glance over his shoulder to where Lance was resting against the door, doing his best to look guiltless (and failing miserably at it). 

Keith was unimpressed. “Lance probably deserved it.”

In the midst of all the insulted squawking, Shiro was slowly getting his bearings. He accepted Keith’s hand up and allowed his careful, tentative touches, quietly pleased that a nice shade of vermilion had settled over Keith’s face. “Are you okay?”

“A little flattened, but I’ll live.” Shiro said calmly, reaching for his prosthetic arm and trying to fit it over his elbow. He felt too vulnerable without it and didn’t want to expose too much to total strangers. “I take it these are friends of yours?”

Keith sent his roommate a dark look as Hunk kept his arms protectively around Lance. “Yeah, that one’s Hunk. He’s my roommate, smart guy most of the time. The annoying one is Lance, I’m sorry. They were just supposed to make sure that it was safe to come up.”

Shiro managed a weak smile as Lance gave him a wink and Hunk waved. “It’s nice to meet you boys.”

“Sorry about whole crushing you thing. Sometimes it’s hard not to know if Lance is going to get himself killed or not. He’s usually going to get himself killed. It’s super nice to meet you! Keith explained that things are a little bit tricky with an ex or something, so we’re here to help.” Hunk said cheerfully. 

“Actually, I’m just here to see if this guy was real.” Lance said, always helpful. “I never really believed that Keith could date anyone, especially not-” He gestured in Shiro’s general direction. “This isn’t some set up, right? Like, you are a thing together?”

Keith clenched his fists like he was going to punch Lance, but Hunk swiftly intercepted. “So anyways, there’s pizza and stuff. I’m glad things worked out, let us know if you need any more lookouts. It’s nice to get a break from studying.”

“You two love birds have fun,” Lance said, making finger guns at them, and Keith resolved to never speak to him again. Thank god for Hunk.

“We’ll just, we’ll let ourselves out.”

The door closed behind them, but they barely waited until it was shut to start whispering heatedly. Keith’s ears went pink. When he turned around, Shiro was slumped in on himself, holding his robe tight around his chest. He looked sad and withdrawn, and the thief didn’t like it at all. Carefully, Keith stepped into his space, as if asking for permission.

“Hey I-”

“It’s just-”

They started at the same time, shared a smile, but Keith gestured for Shiro to continue instead. He ran a hand through his hair, unconsciously inching into Keith’s space, before he huffed out a strangled chuckle. “I just had a rough day at work.”

Keith tugged on the edge of his bathrobe, then slowly, gently wrapped his arms around Shiro’s waist. He let the other man rest against him, caressing his back in broad strokes. Shiro rewarded him with a breathy sigh, his eyes fluttering shut. “You should lie down. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“No, I’m glad you’re here.” Shiro gave up trying to reattach his prosthetic and set the metal arm down. He might have felt too vulnerable in front of strangers, but Keith was always ready to be his right arm. He relaxed under Keith’s hands as they slid beneath his robe, carefully cataloging the new bruises and wounds.

“I’m glad I’m here too. I’m sorry about those two, they wanted to help. I think this is the most exciting thing they’ve ever done.”

Shiro laughed softly, drawing Keith into a slow kiss. “You didn’t tell them about Sendak or about what I do. They think they’re helping you avoid my ex?”

Keith looked sheepish, wrapping his arms around Shiro’s waist. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to be comfortable with them knowing. We can tell them if you want to, I just didn’t want to without talking to you first. It’s your choice. But let’s forget about them for a minute.”

“Mmmm.” Shiro pulled Keith down onto the couch and into his grasp. The shower had helped the ache in his muscles, but Keith pressed warm and willing against him helped the numbness in his heart. “Pizza and Keith, it sounds like my day is getting better.”

Keith didn’t ask about Sendak and Shiro didn’t offer any details. It was just a job and this was something real.

 

* * *

 

Sendak kept Shiro busy. Each session was trying, and it was impossible to know what his client would want until the very last second, giving him no chance to prepare himself. It put Shiro on edge, made him dread the days they were scheduled to meet, even as the payments came in, generously and frequently.

The heaviness of Sendak’s hands haunted him, and he remembered them around his throat, or over his wrists. Clenched into angry fists, or open-handed when he wanted Shiro to prove his loyalty. When they were gentle, it was always to make a point, as he did when he adorned Shiro with a diamond studded collar, whispering hotly in his ear, “ _This is only the beginning. A pretty toy for a pretty pet_.”

But their sessions didn’t always go off like Sendak planned.

Like the time at his club. The Empire was the hottest club in town, no doubt out front, the line went around the block. It wasn’t that people didn’t know the most powerful crime syndicate in the city was based from these back rooms, it was the reason so many people wanted to come. There was nothing better for the rich and trendy than to rub elbows with real killers and mobsters. On the dance floor, bodies writhed together with the beat of the music, and from his throne at the VIP lounge, overlooking the rest of the club, Sendak wanted to make Shiro beg for him.

Or he would’ve, until the harried floor manager found him.

Shiro hated the public display and Sendak knew it. He wasn’t ashamed of what he had to do, he’d made this choice on his own and it was a job like any other. At least until Sendak tried to make him feel ashamed, strutting him out on a leash for everyone to see or making him curl by his feet like a pet. He performed when he was supposed to, teeth grit and playing the part as Sendak tried to find his breaking point.

When the manager hesitantly approached, Sendak was pressed against his back, hand was down the front of Shiro’s pants and lazily stroking him as he swayed to the music.

“Sir?”

“I’m busy right now.” Sendak said in a low voice as Shiro watched the manager with glassy eyes. “This better be important.”

“Yes sir, we’ve just noticed a few problems with the electrical systems tonight. There’s some kind of power surge we can’t explain and-”

Sendak’s hand tightened and Shiro grunted, leaning back against the crime lord’s chest. “Is it something that’ll affect our security systems?”

“Not, but-”

“Is it going to affect business tonight?”

“No…”

“Then don’t bother me again.” He circled his thumb around the head of Shiro’s cock, enjoying the way his prize squirmed in his grasp. “Find someone to take care of the problem and don’t bother me again.”

Then the lights went out, and the crowd screamed.

“Um.”

Ten minutes later, Shiro was standing on the curb, doing his best to hide a smile as he waved off Sendak’s driver, dismissing him politely. “I think I’ll just walk, thanks.”

The Empire was running on emergency power. The line outside the club was somehow longer, but Shiro walked away, whistling. He got two blocks down before a motorcycle pulled up. The driver flicked his visor up and winked at him. “Going my way?”

“That was reckless.” Shiro admonished without any heat, but he reached out for the helmet Keith handed him.

“ _I_ didn’t do anything. That was all Hunk’s idea.”

Shiro laughed and got on the back of Keth’s bike, and they drove into the night with Shiro’s arms wrapped tight around his boyfriend’s waist.

It became a game. They were mice sneaking around the cat’s back, ducking into holes and chewing through wires. Sendak may have had Shiro’s obedience, but Keith was always there for him when he came home, achy and tired and eager for something more tender.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this. We’re really doing this. Dude, we’re doing what the Feds are doing,” Hunk hissed as they gathered around their living room. He was plied with chocolate-y alcoholic milkshakes and was incredibly enthusiastic because of it. Keith had stubbornly stuck to beer, but only on his first bottle, he was already leaning heavily against Shiro’s side, his eyes half-lidded and droopy.

“Viva la resistance!” Lance crowed in a surprisingly melodious French accent. It didn’t entirely go away when he asked, “You really think the Feds are watching Sendak too?”

“Yeah, remember those vans we kept seeing?” Hunk said thoughtfully, sipping his drink. They didn’t have a lot of money, but it was worth it spend a buck at the dollar store for little drink umbrellas. How else would you know you were celebrating? “I wonder if I could track down their bugs, I’ll bet they have much better equipment than what I can whip up.”

“No way!” Shiro laughed, pulling Keith onto his lap and nuzzling the younger man. “I want to stay as far out of their way as possible, I’ve already got you all into enough trouble as it is.”

“It’s no trouble.” Lance toasted his milkshake in Shiro’s direction. “Dude, this is the coolest shit ever. I thought Keith was sort of a creepy loner, I didn’t know he was into all this spy stuff.” He ignored Keith’s glare and patted Shiro on the shoulder. “Plus, you’re a nice guy. We’re happy to help you get away from that creep.”

Shiro saluted Lance with his own bottle, feeling happy and warm down to his toes. It was strange having friends again, he had avoided almost everyone from his old life when he joined with Coran and started selling himself. There was too much guilt attached to that life and what had happened, he couldn’t look anyone in the eye without seeing pity or disappointment. These were new friends, quick to laugh and eager to help, even when Shiro told them he was a sex worker and the true nature of his arrangement with Sendak. There’d been a moment’s hesitation, but they’d never shamed him or made him feel unwelcome.

And with Keith sleepy and drunk in his arms, their cramped and cluttered apartment felt more like home than his own palacial penthouse. It was good to slowly carve something for himself out of his life, it was worth the risks to keep it safe. Keith whined, tucking his face into Shiro’s neck and dotting the skin with kisses.

“You really are a lightweight, aren’t you? How many of those did you have?”

“I had enough.”

“I count one bottle.”

“Urgh shut up,” Keith humphed spectacularly, and Shiro ran a careful hand down his spine, laughing low in his throat. He downed the rest of his drink, and carefully scooped Keith into his arms.

“I think we’re done for the night.”

“What. Shiro. Nooo!” Keith was a wiggling tangle of too many limbs, still displeased that no matter where or when, Shiro could pick him up like he weighed nothing at all. He complained until Shiro dropped a kiss on the tip of his nose, oblivious to the chorus of good natured teasing that followed him all the way to his room. Suddenly he was in a cocoon of soft things, covered in blankets and pillowed on Shiro’s strong chest. “I’m not really drunk, Shiro. I’m fine. I’m  _fine.”_

“Close your eyes, Keith.” Shiro said. There was a smile in his voice, Keith could tell. Shiro sounded infuriatingly smug about something, too. 

“Only for a little while.”

Shiro kissed his forehead as Keith curled against his chest, asleep before he could say another word. Happiness was a fleeting thing and everyone could end in an instant, the accident had taught him that lesson well. Even if this was dangerous, he could never give up on the chance to be happy. Maybe he’d already fallen in love.

 

* * *

 

The game went on for weeks, stealing time away from Sendak’s punishment as the team came together. Keith slipped in the back door of a restaurant so fancy, he couldn’t even pronounce its name and almost gave Shiro a heart attack when he saw the familiar rakish grin across the dinning room. He choked, making weak excuses as Sendak watched him head towards the bathroom, only to grab Keith from his hiding place and kiss him soundly.

“What the hell are you doing here, he’s going to see you!”

“Oh please, he has no idea I’m here.” Keith’s grin sharpened. “I was thinking  _we_ could have a movie night tonight and this time, I’m picking what we watch.”

“Keith, he wants to take me back to his place tonight. I probably won’t be home again until tomorrow morning, there’s no way that I can just walk off the job right now.”

“Good thing I plan on ruining his evening.”

“Keith-”

But Keith only leaned forward to press a tender kiss against the corner of Shiro’s mouth. He looked proud of himself, bursting with his own light. Shiro thought it was a good look on him. “I’ll wait for you at your place.”

“You could have just waited there,” Shiro grumbled, but he was already handing over his keys. Keith shrugged.

“Yeah, but I wanted to see you.”

_Damn him._  For a little while, there was a lot less talking. When Shiro made it back to his table, he was careful to wipe the grin off his face, but Sendak still sent him a pointed scowl.

“When I paid for your time, I paid for your attention.” His hand curled around Shiro’s thigh, squeezing hard enough to leave a point, and the younger man remained perfectly still, offering him his most charming smile. 

“You have it, sir.” Shiro inched closer despite the weight on his leg, molding himself to fit against his client’s side. Sendak’s hand started to wander, and Shiro didn’t push it away. “There’s no where else I would rather be.”

Yet as he spoke, Shiro was looking over his client’s shoulder, to the front of the restaurant where he could just make out the traffic outside. He thought he spotted a rickety old bike, one that was a little too clunky and a little too battered for this side of town, and his heart was at ease. 

Then the sprinklers went off, and it all went to Hell. Sendak roared, surging to his feet as the dancers screamed and ran for cover. The manager scrambled to try and calm the panic, but no one listened to his pleas as the entire club flooded. Shiro laughed, the cold spray soaking through his clothes until they clung to his body and letting it wash away Sendak’s touch. When Shiro left, Sendak was still yelling at the poor, harried store manager and the crime lord’s impatience had reached a breaking point. Shiro had asked to go, and was almost thrown out of the building. The night was ruined, but for Shiro, it was just getting started.

Then there was the paint incident; the health inspectors; the untimely polka dancers. One day, Keith just showed up at his apartment, ten minutes before Shiro was supposed to leave, and said, “We should stay in.”

“I have a date, Keith.”

“No you don’t.” Keith wore smug satisfaction like he was paid to. “He’s going cancel in 3, 2…”

Shiro’s phone rang.

“What happened?”

“There was a towing problem.”

Shiro smiled despite himself, watching his phone ring. “Which car?”

“All of them.”

Shiro started laughing so hard, he couldn’t pick up his phone and had to call Sendak back. They had a good time that night. They had a good time for many, long nights.

It couldn’t last.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Chapter contains graphic Sendak/Shiro rape

The string of bad luck had worn away Sendak’s smiling exterior, exposing the fangs and razor sharp edges beneath. To Shiro, it sometimes felt like a game, stealing precious moments of his life back from right under his employers nose. He and Keith reveled in secret meetings and hurried kisses, frantic desperate nights when all they wanted was to tangle in sweat-stained sheets and laughing, lazy mornings with Shiro trying to make breakfast in Keith’s tiny kitchen. Hunk and Lance had a way of inviting themselves into any conversation that involved eggs and bacon, and Shiro was only too happy to feed starving college students.

He and Keith would laugh about it as they spent the evenings in dark movie theaters or quiet museums or the privacy of their apartments where Keith’s touch could wash away the memory of other hands on his skin. He almost forgot that Sendak was feared for good reason. That was his fault for getting so complacent. Shiro knew he should have been more careful around a killer.

“On your knees.” The command came as soon as they arrived in Sendak’s home and Shiro obeyed without hesitation, sinking down to the hardwood floor and bowing his head. Sometimes Sendak just liked to make him wait until his muscles cramped and his knees ached, and he couldn’t stand straight. Sometimes this was just the start of some more intense game. There was no way to tell and Shiro waited in silence, his body tense. Ice clinked against glass as Sendak poured himself a drink and watched Shiro with calculating intensity.

“I feel like I haven’t been giving you enough attention.” Sendak said finally, slowly stalking towards his prize, his voice a rumbling purr as threatening as any jungle cat’s. “I pay a great deal for you and work always seems to get in the way. I think we need a little time, just the two of us.” He hooked his finger into Shiro’s diamond studded collar and gave it a sharp tug. “I should have more of these soon, maybe I’ll have them make a leash to go along with the collar. That way I can really show you off, pet. You’d like to be at the end of my lead, wouldn’t you?”

Shiro licked his lips but stayed silent and let Sendak talk.

“I looked into you.” He drawled softly, tone pitched to carry, painfully demanding a reaction. Shiro played right into his hands, tensing ever so slightly. His eyes widening just a fraction, but the pressure on his collar tightened. “Such a unique pet. I didn’t think you’d be pedigree, Takashi.”

Shiro inhaled sharply and then let the tension bleed out of his frame. It was doubtful that Sendak could do anything to his family. His reach didn’t stretch to cities so far away, and more importantly, Shiro had given him nothing to suspect. Yet Sendak’s smile sent shivers up his spine.

“They called your their _Champion_ , didn’t they,” he sneered. “The Golden Boy, ace pilot.”

It took all of Shiro’s self-control to look into that cruel, knowing smile without flinching. This was some kind of test or game, he just didn’t know what the rules were. Even if he did, winning was out of the question. He held himself still as Sendak reached for him, stroking fingers through his hair in a mockery of compassion.

“It’s amazing you survived that accident at all, you could have lost more than just an arm. So much for the ace pilot, hm? From Champion to begging whore, look at how far you’ve fallen. Don’t worry, I think you’ve made the right choice. You’re much better at sucking cock than you are anything else. At least here, your failures won’t get anyone killed.”

With a growl, Shiro jerked away from Sendak’s touch. “Shut up!”

The crime lord just laughed, backhanding Shiro hard enough to set his ears ringing.

Shiro pulled himself to his feet, trying to catch his breath, but a solid kick to his chest knocked the wind out of it and sent him sprawling. Sendak’s foot slammed into the back of his spine, pinning him to the floor as he ground his heel into Shiro’s back. “Dumb bitch. Don’t ever forget your place.”

Anger pooled in the pit of Shiro’s gut, spreading between his naval and ribs with burning agony. He kept his grip tight on its reigns, clenching his jaw against each stab until all that showed was the irregular flutter of his pulse. Then Sendak crouched over him, his knee digging into Shiro’s back as he whispered in his ear. “What was that old man’s name? The one you killed? Holt?”

That was too much. All the humiliation, the cruelty that he’d swallowed for Sendak welled up and burst. With a shout, he wrenched himself away and launched himself at the other man, feeling the metal of his fist connect with Sendak’s jaw. Shiro fought like he flew, agile and precise. He danced out of the way of Sendak’s blow, redirecting the energy to land another quick punch.

“Good!” Sendak sneered, wiping a smear of blood from the corner of his mouth. “I was wondering how long it would take you to fight back. Come on Champion, show me what you’re made of.”

Even with Shiro’s speed, it was hard to break through Sendak’s defenses. He was quick for a man so big and much stronger. Very blow felt like Shiro was hit with a block of cement and his battered body was already pushed to its limits. But Sendak’s laughter spurred him on. The crime lord wanted this, baited him until he had to fight back.

“You don’t get to talk about them!”

Sendak laughed, a chillingly sadistic sound that rang through Shiro’s ears and reverberated through his skull until it was all he heard. “Talk about how you killed them? Or how your incompetence and weakness brought you here, brought you so low, you beg for a living. Don’t worry, pet. No matter how many johns you fuck, you still screwed them best.”

Shiro charged at him, a snarl between his teeth, and Sendak thought he was ready. Sendak wasn’t prepared for the way Shiro ducked under his arm, and slammed a nearby table lamp into his head, spraying ceramic all around them. He wasn’t ready for the frantic, furious way Shiro’s fists rained down on him, a disgrace and a failure, but one desperate for blood. He would break Sendak beneath his fists.

“I said don’t talk about them!” Shiro snapped. “Don’t you ever, ever talk about them!”

But Shiro wasn’t ready for Sendak reaching into his coat, and the sharp stab of metal as electrodes dug into his skin. It was a minor inconvenience, barely felt, before the tazer went off, sending bolts of electricity through his body. Shiro tried to scream, but he was paralyzed in pain, writhing on the ground until Sendak let him free.

He kicked Shiro hard, blow landing with a hallow thud against his ribs. “I know your type, I even know why you’re doing this. You always wanted to play the hero, it’s in your blood. You’re trying to save them, but you’re the one who destroyed them in the first place. You’re a killer, Shiro. You’re more like me than you want to admit.”

“No!” Shiro lashed out again, eyes wild, but electricity coursed through his nerves and set him convulsing back to the floor. Sendak played with the controls until Shiro was screaming, ragged and incoherent, muscles contorted with pain.

“That’s why you like this so much.” Sendak hauled Shiro up by his jeweled collar, dragging the dazed and unresisting man to his bed. “That’s why you wanted my attention. You were drawn to me because you wanted a killer, just like you.” Shiro’s body trembled, unable to stop as Sendak ripped through his clothes and stripped him bare. The world spun and his nerves screamed, every movement an agony.

“Tell me how much you want me.”

“N-No.” The defiance in Shiro’s voice wavered, cut by another scream as he arched back on the bed, electricity searing through him until his vision tunneled and unconsciousness called to him. Sendak was too skilled to let him slip away, keeping him dancing on the edge where he couldn’t escape the pain.

“Tell me, Shiro!”

There was blood on the side of Sendak’s mouth. It dripped sluggishly down his jaw. The same blood on Shiro’s knuckles. He bared his teeth, trying to form a warning, but Sendak was already spreading his legs, dragging his knee between his thighs. Shiro could barely feel it. He was sure he was going to have a heart attack, his pulse racing in his ears, threatening to crack open his rib cage with the force of every beat.

He took too long to answer. Sendak yanked him up by the hair, making him gasp, and Shiro tried to inch away, as Sendak dragged his tazer down his chest. The metal tongs were warm as they pressed into his naval, dragging between his legs. It pressed insistently against his taint, right below his balls, and Shiro went stock still, eyes wide with terror as the blood drained out of his face.

“One last time, pet. Tell me.”

The moment lasted milliseconds, but it felt like it stretched on forever. Sendak thrived on his fear. Shiro read it in the blood that painted his smile and fever bright eyes. Sendak would destroy him if he let him. Shiro couldn’t let him. With no warning, he turned up on his side, slamming a kick into the side of Sendak’s frame. He scrambled for the end of the bed as soon as it connected, but he wasn’t fast enough.

A sharp tug on his throat jerked him backwards and Shiro was slammed face first into the pillows. His head was pushed down, entire face trapped in soft cotton that filled his nose and mouth. He couldn’t breathe. Panic seized him, made him fight and scramble, clawing at the sheets as his lungs burned. He was going to die. _He was going to die!_

Then Sendak dragged him backwards and shoved him into the headrest. Shiro’s vision swam and blurred as he slumped weightlessly against it.

His chest tightened, pain lancing through him with every beat of his heart. It felt like his ribs had been replaced by cool bands of steel, and Sendak was turning the screws to tighten them. “Please.” Shiro slurred the word as Sendak’s weight pressed him down into the mattress, forcing his thighs apart. Blood oozed down the side of his face and he struggled to put his scrambled thoughts together again. He couldn’t breathe. They were falling out of the sky. Alarms blared but none of the systems were responding. Matt was screaming at him to pull up as they streaked through the sky, flames trailing behind the ship, but he couldn’t make it stop. Just stop, oh god.

Thick, slick fingers pressed into him, demanding and possessive. “Say it!” The fingers curled as Shiro moaned.

“Please.” He felt sick as Sendak’s knowing touch forced his body to react, weeks of intimacy used against him. Sendak knew exactly what he responded to, teasing and coaxing until Shiro hardened despite himself.

“Tell me how much you need it.” Sendak purred in his ear.

“I need you. I need this.”

“Tell me you’re a killer.” Shiro bared his teeth like an animal, refusing the request with the last of his strength. Sendak closed his hand around Shiro’s cock, circling his thumb across his slit until his captive choked. Pain and pleasure pulsed through him but he was too dazed to do more than claw at the headboard for something to hold on to. Sendak just laughed as Shiro groaned, squeezing a drop of precum free and smearing it across the head of the whore’s cock. But Shiro gathered the last of his willpower.

“I’m not. I’m not like _you_.”

He’d pay for the insult.

Sendak pulled out of him, the absence of thick fingers leaving Shiro shake. It almost felt like a relief, until he felt Sendak’s mouth against his shoulder, his scruffed beard scratching against his bare skin. “You were doing so well, too.”

Then he thrust in, burying his cock to the hilt as Shiro groaned and doubled over. Tears prickled at the corner of his eyes. Too fast, too hard, his body struggled to adjust, tight walls clamping down around the intruder.

A jolt of electricity jerked across his ribs, that sent Shiro screaming. Sendak fucked him into the mattress, forcing him open with a hand in his hair, and the other on the control dial. Shiro sobbed, his knees giving way under their combined weight, sliding against the sheets as he struggled to keep his balance. Every thrust punched the air from his lungs, hard and brutal, carving a space inside of him that only Sendak could reach, and when he thought it would be okay, when he thought he could hold on, his master turned up the voltage and made him howl.

“Dance, boy,” Sendak snarled, shaking him like a rag doll, and Shiro couldn’t stop begging. His body jerked and thrashed, dancing on Sendak’s cock, like a puppet on a string for Sendak’s satisfaction.

He switched out the tazer, burying himself back inside his captive with one smooth thrust that made Shiro bow his back, panting for air. A sheen of sweat pooled down his back, the sound of skin slapping skin loud over his ragging breathing. Sendak hooked one hand into Shiro’s collar, yanking him back against him as he fucked his prize, trailing the hard metal of the tazer down Shiro’s scarred chest.

“You like this.” He hissed and he knew Shiro couldn’t deny it. “My pretty little whore. You like it when I fuck you like this.”

Shiro choked, the collar cutting into his throat as he tried to pull it free. Pleasure sparked through his abused nerves and his eyes rolled back, finally surrendering to Sendak’s punishment. “Yes.”

His master laughed, releasing his grip so Shiro could breathe and dropped the tazer to the floor. Strong hands gripped Shiro’s hips, holding him steady as Sendak pounded into him relentlessly. He drove him to the edge, running his hands down Shiro’s trembling frame with mocking sweetness that left Shiro shaking in gratitude. Moments like these, moments of respite and kindness, Shiro could almost kill for.

“Please,” Shiro croaked, his body heavy, cock full and aching. After everything, it almost felt good to give in. “Please let me…”

Sendak bit down on the juncture of Shiro’s neck, sharp enough to make him bleed, and Shiro came apart with a cry. Sendak covered him with his body, grinding into his gaping, sloppy hole. It was wrong, it was all wrong, but Sendak took and took. He fucked Shiro through his orgasm, pushing himself to the verge, the very edge of want, treating his partner as little more than a glorified fleshlight.

Sendak came with a low growl, spurting thick and hot as he filled his bitch. His thrusts slowed, cum dribbling passed the hilt of his cock and down between Shiro’s thighs. “Good boy, take it all.”

Shiro fell over without his support, whimpering softly as his body protested the assault. He flinched away from Sendak’s hands and only made him rougher as he spread Shiro’s arms above his head and examined his handiwork. His took him in with an satisfied sneer and spat in his face.

It took him too long to come back to himself. By then Sendak had crossed the room, adjusting the shirt he hadn’t bothered to take off and finishing the last of his drink. Shame twisted Shiro’s belly into knots, left him flushed and exhausted, but he pulled himself to his feet, swiped angrily at his cheek. He gathered his clothes, didn’t care that he’d have to change in the hall. He just wanted to be far, far away from here.

“I’m done.”  

Sendak’s glass dropped to the table with a solid clack, but he sauntered over to his bed, watching his purchase like a hungry beast. Shiro took an unsteady step back despite himself, his knees trembling with the effort to keep still. He could feel slick dribbling down his legs, unintentionally wanton.

“Haven’t you learned anything yet?” Sendak asked, voice smoky sly as he crowded into his space.

“You’re not done until I say you are.”

 

* * *

 

Keith knew he shouldn’t have waited. No one specifically told him not to, but Shiro mostly assumed that the thief had better things to do than hang out on a fire escape, peering into his best friend’s apartment. To be fair, Keith did. It was just easier not to. More importantly he was worried. Shiro didn’t have a set schedule. His client was capricious at the best of times, but it was past noon, and Shiro was normally home by now.

Then the front door to his home opened, and Keith’s heart sank.

Shiro didn’t walk in. He was dragged by two men Keith recognized from Sendak’s club, the Empire. Shiro didn’t appear fully conscious. He let them drop him on the couch, and remained unresponsive when they spoke.

Keith hid until they were gone, waiting until the door closed behind the men before rushing over to the couch and gently turning Shiro to his side. His skin was a mess of bruises and burns, clothes torn and his hair still damp with sweat. He was filthy, but Keith didn’t care as he gathered the man up in his arms and stroked his hands through Shiro’s hair.

“Hey, wake up. C’mon, wake up. You’re home, I’ve got you.” He murmured, trying desperately to bring Shiro around.

“I like it.” Shiro’s whispered words sent daggers into Keith’s heart. “Sendak, please.”

He jerked back, blinking rapidly as his feelings knotted, making it hard to swallow. Keith stumbled away, hands shaking as he went to the bathroom for a towel. He ran it under cold water and returned to Shiro, pressing the damp cloth to his face. “You’re home, Shiro. It’s okay, you’re safe now.”

Dark unfocused eyes fluttered open, staring up at Keith’s face without recognition before they cleared. Keith felt another stab of jealousy and rage. If Sendak were here, he’d wring his neck with his own bear hands! Burying the feelings, he managed to smile and wiped the cool towel across Shiro’s forehead.

“You’re going to be okay now, I’m here.”

“Keith,” Shiro started, but Keith noticed the way he reached for the hem of his tattered shirt, trying to shield himself from view. He could see Shiro struggling to calm down, fighting to find the right words to say, before he lowered his eyes and pleaded. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

It felt like a slap to the face, and an all too familiar rage crept across his nerves. Keith beat it down, refusing to give in, but he took a careful step back.

“Okay… Okay.” It was Shiro’s choice. It would always be, but his chest felt too tight, like this ribs were constricting in on themselves, squeezing through his lungs, and leaving him breathless. “I’m going to get you some pajamas out, and - do you want me to run a bath?”

He didn’t have to be anywhere near Shiro to help, but Keith desperately hoped he wouldn’t send him away.

Shiro hesitated, but finally nodded. Keith picked out a pair of worn sweatpants and an old t-shirt, running the hot water and letting Shiro shamble towards the bathroom, wincing with every step. He busied himself in the kitchen, putting together a plate of toast smeared with peanut butter and jelly. It wasn’t much, but he didn’t have the cooking skills for anything fancy and this was his go to comfort food. He barely remembered anything about his real parents, they’d died when he was so young, but he remembered his mother’s smile and the way she’d bring him snacks when he was upset.

When Shiro finally emerged with puff of steam, towel draped across his shoulders and murmured his thanks when Keith pressed the plate into his hands. They curled on the couch, Shiro licking the peanut butter with his fingers and finally letting himself relax against Keith.

“We could just go.” Keith didn’t ask for details, just offered a quiet way out. “We can pack up and leave down. I’ll jump a car or something, we’ll just drive until we find someplace better. We’ll take the bus if we have to. We can start over where no one knows who we are and where he’ll never find us.”

“I can’t.” Shiro shared a bite of his toast with Keith. “I have to see this through. He’ll be done soon enough, they never stay forever. I just need to get as much out of this as I can before it’s over.”

“Is it really worth it?”

“Yes.” Shiro said, without pause, and Keith wished he could believe him. He still nodded slowly, keeping his protests to himself. He wasn’t going to argue now, not when Shiro looked like he’d spent the last night doing a whole lot more. The memory of cigarette burns on his thighs made Keith ill.

“You should go home. Get some rest,” Shiro added at length, managed a tired, hollow smile. “I’m not going to be good company today.”

Keith looked at him uneasily, wondering for a moment if there was something he was missing, a nuance between the lines that he overlooked. He knew he had a bad habit of it. He thought he’d stopped caring long ago, and then Shiro walked into his life, and Keith just needed to be sure. “I’ll go if you want me to,” he said honestly. “But I just want to be with you right now.”

Shiro just watched him, wondering what the safer choice would be before realizing he’d never played it safe when it came to Keith. With a sigh, he pulled the other man down, wrapping his body around Keith and finding something important enough to hold on to.

“Thank you for staying with me.” He said into Keith’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to thank me, I want to stay, even when it’s a bad day. I care about you, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you.” Shiro meant those words more than he ever had in his life. Even at his very worst, Keith was here and Shiro was starting not to be able to see a life without him. They spent a long time curled on the couch without speaking before Keith led Shiro back to the bed, helping him into it, and crawling in beside them. They slept together like the world outside couldn’t touch them, wrapped in soft sheets and each other.

In the morning, Keith crept out early after kissing Shiro goodbye and eased his way down the hall. He figured it would take him ten, maybe fifteen minutes to get breakfast. Unfortunately, someone was already waiting for him. A tall, wiry man with an astounding mustache blocked his way to the elevators with a dark glower, arms crossed over his chest. Keith had never met Shiro’s manager before, but he didn’t think Coran could be anyone else.

“I know what you’re doing, you need to stop.”

“What am I doing?” Keith was immediately on the defensive. “I haven’t done anything.”

“He’s working for Mr. Sendak now and you’re a threat to everything he’s ever wanted. If you really cared about him, you’d never come back.”

“If you cared about anything other than stuffing your wallet, this wouldn’t happen!” Keith snapped, teeth bared in fury, his fists clenched so tight his hands were shaking. In his eyes, Coran had said the worst possible thing, because out of the two of him, it looked like he was the only one trying to help Shiro. “What’s the point of someone like you if you won’t protect him!”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. So you should-”

“Do you see what he’s doing to him!”

“Shiro wouldn’t-”

“He’s going to kill him! You’re going to get him killed!”

“He’s dying!”

The words lingered between them, stretching into a silence that was as delicate as spun glass. Both men were left breathing hard, too close to coming to blows over someone they cared very dearly about.

“What.” Keith demanded, too suspicious of Coran to believe him, but the resigned distress in the manager’s voice was enough to give him pause.

“You can't save him. Shiro’s already dying.” 


	6. Chapter 6

When Keith first rolled out of bed, he hadn’t aimed for much. Coffees and bagels for breakfast seemed like enough, and he hoped to send the rest of the day wrapped in his best friend, but when Shiro poked his head out of bed, he found at that the thief had splurged a little. There were too many pancakes on the tray Keith carried in, and he was sure that even the neighbors could smell the veritable bacon mountain that came with it. Hash browns, omelettes, and one really big stick of butter. Shiro’s stomach woke up all the way before he did.

Keith ran a hand though his hair before kissing his brow. Then he took his place beside Shiro, pressed up against him and leaning against his arm, letting Shiro decide how he was going to conquer their breakfast. He hoped it distracted Shiro. Keith needed a little more time to himself.

He’d never spoken to Shiro’s manager before that morning. He knew of Coran, in the same vague way that he knew of Shiro’s former clients. Shiro wasn’t overly invested in discussing his career, and Keith didn’t want to push him. He almost wished he’d tried now. He was still shaken.

> _“What the Hell are you talking about?” He’d yelled at a man who suddenly looked are too old._
> 
> _“He’s dying. His seizures, his attacks… There were complications after the crash. There’s shrapnel in his heart, and he could, it could- there’s no way of knowing how long he has left.”_
> 
> _“Then operate,” Keith had said, far too affected to think clearly. “He makes enough money, or are you keeping that from him, too?”_
> 
> _“He’s already tried. No one will touch him. It’s too risky. He has people he needs to take care of before… Before he can’t anymore.”_
> 
> _“You’re lying! This is - I don’t believe you.”_
> 
> _“You don’t have to. Just ask him.”_

Now Keith wondered if it had all been a trick, if Coran had somehow convinced Shiro to believe his scheme, or trapped him into working for him. There was one way to find out, but Keith wasn’t sure he was ready.

“Hey, you okay? You’re quiet.” A plate of pancakes found its way to Keith’s lap. It took Keith a second to realize who’d put it there, but Shiro was still smiling at him. “Well, quieter.”

Keith looked at the plate and blinked furiously to keep the tears from falling. Things had been so much simpler when he’d been on the run. He had never been close to anyone before, not unless they were someone he could use to get by. It wasn’t easy being a kid on the streets, but he quickly found that living on his own was sometimes safer than the foster homes they kept placing him in. It was easier to survive when there was space enough to run.

He hadn’t meant to be a thief, but none of the plans he’d dreamed about ever came true. There’s never been a way to get to the Garrison, never a way to touch the stars. He used to wish for freedom back when he’d still had hope that his life would somehow, someday get better before the bitterness and regret took it. Now he was just glad to get from day to day.

Things had changed, he had friends he could almost trust and he had Shiro. He had ignored all the survival skills he’d picked up over the years and threw himself right in the path of the biggest monster in town. He was baiting Sendak and so close to getting caught, but for a young man who never had anything or anyone worth protecting, it was a risk he’d been willing to take just to hold on to the illusion that he could keep this life.

But Shiro was dying and Keith’s fragile dream was shattering around him. It was easier when he was alone and didn’t care, at least then he had no one to lose.

“Keith…” Shiro was gentle, coaxing, and Keith had to look away.

“I’m fine!” He pressed his palms into his eyes with more insistence, refusing to break now, but Shiro just inched closer, drawing him into an embrace that he didn’t know how to shake off. So he clung to Shiro, tighter than he should have, and Shiro laced their fingers together, running his thumb on the back of his knuckles, right above where his missing fingers had been. Keith hadn’t thought they’d last forever, but he’d hoped.

“Is it true?” He didn’t mean it to sound like an accusation, but now he couldn’t take back the words. “I heard about the crash. Your heart… Is it true?”

Shiro inhaled sharply, tensing against Keith’s side, and that was all the answer he needed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Shiro put his plate down with a sigh and took Keith’s hand in his own, angry that Coran had shared things that were too personal and not his own to give away. He never wanted to see that look on Keith’s face, he’d run across the country to escape that pity. Shiro brought Keith’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss along the knuckles of Keith’s missing fingers.

“There’re some wounds that everyone wants to forget, right?” He said gently as Keith pulled his hand back and rubbed the stumps of his fingers, face a mask of guarded pain.

“Shiro, I can’t-”

“I got hurt, but I survived and other people didn’t. My heart is a ticking time bomb. I could live for years with the shrapnel or they could shift any time and I’d be done. The risk is too great for surgery, so I just wait.” He folded his hands in his lap to keep from reaching for Keith, letting the other man keep his space. “But I could get hit by a car or slip in the shower. I could die a thousand different ways every day and I promised myself I wasn’t going to let it hold me back. I wasn’t trying to keep it secret, I was just trying to live. I’m sorry.”

“Then stop acting like you’re going to die!” Keith pleaded, catching Shiro by surprise. “If you just need the money, you don’t have to do this. You’ve got time. I can help you. It doesn’t have to be Sendak. We’ll find someone else, somewhere else, somewhere you won’t…”

Desperation pooled in the pit of Keith's belly. He could feel it chasing after his heart, deepening his pulse, but Keith needed Shiro to understand. “You have people you want to take care of. I didn’t know what that was like. I didn’t know why they’re worth all this, but now I have you. And Shiro you, you’re more important to me than you know. So maybe I know a little about what that’s like.”

Shiro finally gave in, pulling Keith against him and tucking the younger man under his chin. “He’ll get tired of me soon, it’s going to be okay. I’m not going to leave you.”

Tears squeezed out from beneath his lashes as Keith clung to Shiro. “I never had anyone before. I never had  _anything_  and then you showed up and you make me feel-, you actually want me.” He wasn’t making any sense, but he couldn’t force the words passed the panic that tied his tongue. No one had ever gotten through his walls before, he was too awkward and too angry. Shiro was the only one who made him feel like he wasn’t being chased by his failures. “I’m not going to let him hurt you again.” He promised. “I’ve never had anything to lose before and now that I have you, I won’t let anything hurt you.”

“You can’t make that promise, Keith. That’s not something anyone can control.” Shiro sounded so calm, so sure of himself. Keith didn’t want to look up to see his disappointment.  

He’d always measured his relationships in terms of how much they could give one another. They were glorified business agreements, easy to understand as long as he could keep people at arm’s length though much often he’d prefer them even farther. He thought things were different with Shiro, but in this moment, Keith was worried he’d find out he was wrong. He started to pull away, shame-faced and vulnerable, murmuring an excuse, but Shiro wouldn’t let go.

“One more month. I don’t think he’ll want me any longer than that. He’ll get bored,” Shiro insisted, but continued in a softer voice. ”I don’t think I could do it any longer.”

“God, I-I, this isn’t fair.” Keith gave an ugly sniff and curled his hand around Shiro’s shoulder. “You went through hell last night and here I am crying because  _you’re_  hurt. I should be the one taking care of you.” He hunched over, shame weighing him down. Keith had never had an opportunity to be a hero, but he never thought he was such a coward either. All those stupid risks he used to take just for the thrill of feeling something didn’t mean he was brave when he couldn’t even look Shiro in the face.

Shiro wiped the tears from Keith’s cheek and handed him a tissue with a smile. “Then take care of me and I’ll take care of you.” He murmured, “That’s a promise we can both keep.”

“Okay, okay.” Keith reached for the plate and dropped it back on Shiro’s lap, hoping to distract from the mess he’d made of himself. “I’m taking care of you by making you have breakfast.”

Shiro had never been so in love.

Carefully, he cupped Keith’s chin. The younger man stubbornly avoided his eyes, but he moved willingly. Shiro caught him off-guard with the kiss, tender and sweet, and so gentle, like he though Keith would break.

“I meant it, you know. Last night,” Shiro whispered. “When I said that I love you.”

Keith hesitated, but acceptance came with surprising ease, like slipping into an old pair of slippers. It was simple in a way he’d never planned for, but he couldn’t imagine doubting it. He and Shiro, they just made sense. “I love you, too.”

When Shiro smiled at him like that, Keith felt like he was floating.

They spent the rest of the day tucked into bed, wrapped in each other, getting up only to answer the door for more delivery food. They watched dumb cartoons on the expensive plasma screen that Shiro didn’t have to buy, and argued about whether or not they actually had to wear pants. And they talked. Keith told Shiro all about the orphanages, about bouncing from place to place until he decided he ought to just  _run._ About how he’d taken the Garrison entrance exams on a whim that cost too much, saving up for months to get his papers in order, and how he’d earned a partial scholarship; it just wasn’t enough in the end. He told Shiro about his hovercrafts, and racing, about Sendak’s brand of justice and his own regrets. Shiro shared his own secrets, the scars, the accidents, his responsibility to Matt and to Pidge. He told Keith about leaving his home and meeting Coran, all to take care of the Holts.

Afterwards they made love, slow and sweet as they laughed together, and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

 

* * *

 

Sendak didn’t call for the rest of the day. Or the next. When Shiro called to ask about their next date, he was told that Sendak was was busy and wouldn’t be requesting him again for a week. Shiro knew he shouldn’t feel like celebrating, this was anything but a gift. It wasn’t fun to hurt someone who couldn’t fight back and Sendak knew that Shiro had been pushed passed his limits. He didn’t want to break his toy so quickly.

It was an uncomfortable feeling, but Shiro kept his worries to himself. After allowing him a chance to heal, who knew what sick games his employer would want to play next.

Four more weeks. Then three. If he managed to keep Sendak’s attention for longer than that, he’d be surprised. The pay was better than he could have ever hoped and there would be enough to make sure Matt and his family were taken care of for as long as they needed it. He wouldn’t have to worry any more about what would happen to them when he was gone. 

Keith spent almost all of his time at Shiro’s apartment, until one day, Shiro pulled him towards the closet and showed him an empty drawer. “You’re here so much, I figured, why not make it official,” he said, voice lilting the way it did when he thought he was being funny.

“I don’t have anything to put in it,” Keith said, inwardly chastising himself because he knew he missed a cue somehow. Yet even as he scowled, Shiro’s smile brightened.

“You’ve got clothes don’t you?”

“No, I mean-” I Keith could’ve kicked his as, he would’ve. “I have a bag. That’s all.”

Living on the run meant he kept his most important possessions close, and every time he put something down, he considered it as good as gone. He could fit the contents of his apartment in Shiro’s drawer, and admitting it felt like a dirty secret. Until Shiro cupped his cheek and drew him in, kissing the corner of his lips with a lazy grin. “Then… If you find something you like, at least you’ll have space for it.”

It shouldn’t have been that easy, but somehow, things with Shiro always were. If Keith had been less infatuated, he might have been afraid at just how much their life together meant. He’d never had a future before, there had always just been the present, too focused on his next meal or his next score to allow himself to think that far ahead. Now, there were actual dreams.

He shut the drawer almost reverently, still stunned by all it represented and paused, picking up a small framed picture from the top of the wardrobe. Two young men smiled back at him in Garrison cadet orange, arms slung casually around each other. One was a scrawny young man with messy hair and glasses, the other Shiro before the scars or the trauma that streaked his hair white. It must have been just a few years ago, but he looked so much younger back then.

Keith turned with the picture in his hand. “Is this Matt?”

Shiro glanced over and smiled, carefully taking the picture from Keith. “Yeah. Look at us back then, we were such a couple of dorks. He was my roommate in the Garrison, the best friend I’d ever had. Whenever my head would get too big, he’d be more than happy to bust my ego and he was  _funny_. He could keep the whole barracks up laughing.”

“Why don’t you ever go visit him?”

Shiro put the picture back on the wardrobe and flexed the fingers of his prosthetic hand, a constant reminder of his failure. “He’s still in a coma, it won’t do any good. He, none of them, they don’t need to see me. It’ll just remind them of what happened.”

“Or maybe it’ll be nice to see you again?” Keith took Shiro’s metal hand and pulled him close. “Maybe they don’t hate you as much as you hate yourself, Takashi.”

Shiro wanted to protest, but the urge faded away as Keith drew him in, his hands gently bracketing his face. He kissed Shiro’s brow, then each of his eyelids, then the tip of Shiro’s nose and finally his mouth, soft but insistent, and Shiro wanted to give him everything he ever had. A trickle of recklessness settled over his shoulders, whispering daring into his ear, and Shiro couldn’t see any reason to turn back. Keith had a way of making him brave. 

“Come with me?” He asked, and already the plan was forming in his mind. He had time off. He  had the means. As long as he told Coran, no one would go looking for him and if he didn't leave now, he knew he'd change his mind. “If I go see him. Come with me.”

Keith looked surprised, and Shiro pushed his advantage, bulldozing through his own doubts. “It’ll only be for a couple of days. One night. It’ll be a long trip, but we can get a hotel, and I’ll take care of everything. What do you say?”

“I don’t know.” Keith was so used to protesting that he had to stop himself. This was a part of Shiro no one else ever saw, another life. He’d already shared his fears and his secrets, but this was something bigger. He knew he should just say no, but Shiro looked at him with dark, anxious eyes and Keith realized that Shiro was even more terrified than he was. “Alright.” He said delicately. “I’ll go with you. I’ve never really been on a road trip before.”

“We’ll be back soon, we’re not going to stay. I just, you’re right. I should see him again. I should tell him things.” Shiro wrapped his arms around Keith’s waist and hoisted him up into the air as the younger man squawked indignantly. “I’ll go arrange the tickets, you start packing.”

Keith scowled, but nodded and wondered what sort of trouble he’d gotten himself into now.

 

* * *

 

The bus ride was long. By the 10th hour, Keith couldn’t feel his butt anymore and his bladder almost burst waiting for the next rest stop. Shiro was quiet, idle conversation dying away the closer they came to their destination and Keith could see the rising nerves in the way his friend tapped the fingers of his mechanical hand against his thigh. He didn’t sleep a minute the entire trip.

They spent all of two minutes in their hotel, checking in, before Shiro insisted they go to the hospital. Keith wondered if it was because Shiro thought he’d lose the nerve to visit if they waited.

The hospital smelled like antiseptic and whatever it was they were serving in the cafeteria. Shiro wasn’t coping well. It was odd to see him like this. Even at his worst, he always seemed so strong and sure of himself and now he fidgeted outside of the hospital room door, afraid to swing it open. Keith slipped his hand into Shiro’s and earned a smile. That seemed to do the trick and they pushed open the door together.

Matt was pale against the bed sheets, almost like he was sleeping if it wasn’t for the different machines he was hooked up to quietly beeping off rhythm. Shiro’s hand tightened around his as they stood beside the bed together and looked down.

“Hey Matt, it’s Takashi.” Shiro said quietly. “I, uh, I’m sorry I haven’t been by in a while.  I’ve been working a lot and I-I missed you. You’re looking pretty good Sleepy Beauty.” He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice from cracking and dragged Keith closer. “I brought someone I wanted you to meet. His name’s Keith, he’d kick your ass in the simulator, you should see him fly. I think you’d really like this one, I know I do.”

“Shiro, I-”

“Keith,” Shiro whispered, fragile and nervous, and Keith could never abandon him when he needed him. He clenched his fists, steeling himself, but it still didn’t feel like enough. Matt barely looked like his picture.

“I’m Keith.” He said to the still air, and only Matt’s beeping monitor answered him. Then his shoulders tensed, just enough that Shiro tried to catch his eye, but Keith went on with all the grace of a wrecking ball. “Even if Shiro doesn’t visit often, he thinks about you all the time. He cares about you, and he misses you. He’d be here every day if he could, but he can’t so he just… He does what he has to. The last few years haven’t been easy on him either.”

It was Shiro’s turn to hesitate, doubt clear on his features even if he wouldn’t reprimand Keith in front of his friend, but Keith only shrugged, a little helpless, a little defiant. “I think someone should tell him. I didn’t think you would.”

Shiro just chuckled softly and snaked his arm around Keith’s waist. “He’s everything you used to tease me about back in school. He’s trouble and he’s smart and he’s funny. You would have had him on your side in one of our prank wars 15 seconds after shaking his hand. You’d love him, Matty, I know I do.”

“Shiro?”

He stiffened beside Keith and turned slowly towards the pint-sized mini Matt standing in the doorway. They launched themselves across the room and into Shiro’s arms, almost knocking them both over. “Shiro, you’re actually here! You didn’t tell me, I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Sorry, kiddo. It was sort of a spur of the moment thing, I just wanted to say hello to him.”

“You jerk.” They punched him hard in the chest and wiped their nose on their sleeve with a snort, looking up at Keith expectantly.

“This is my boyfriend Keith, he’s the one I wanted Matt to meet. You know how he would have liked to give out his approval.”

Keith almost choked at the casual introduction, but he found a hand thrust into his face. “I’m Pidge, Matt’s my brother. Sometimes I go by Katie. I’m genderfluid.”

They spoke with practiced ease, smile tilted with practiced nonchalance. Even around friends, they’d learned to be careful, but Keith hid his left hand in his pocket with no grace whatsoever. Pidge took it in stride. “Are you really dating Shiro? He’s kind of a giant butt most of the time.”

“Hey,” Shiro scoffed. “I’m very hurt. You know I strive to be a butt all the time.”

Pidge laughed, and Shiro remembered the somber acceptance they carried on their shoulders during every call. Now he realized just how much they had to psych themselves up to tell him to stop, and part of him really wished he could.

“I brought these,” he said, digging through his bag for an almost embarrassingly large box of chocolate-covered nougats. “To share.” 

“Oh nice! Mom is gonna be so happy to see you. She’s just parking, and hey, maybe we can go for dinner.” Pidge chatted away animatedly, drawing Shiro in to a conversation he’d needlessly dreaded and giving new life to the dreary hospital room. Their mother arrived not much later, and pulled Shiro into a hug like she had when he was still a cadet, and Matt had kidnapped him for Thanksgiving dinner. 

It was both easier and harder than Shiro expected it to be, but Keith was a steady presence by his side throughout the day. He didn’t say much, but he never let Shiro feel like he was alone. 

Mrs. Holt insisted they go for dinner. Then afterwards, Pidge insisted on coffee at home, to show off their new place, the one they’d gotten after the crash. The one with less painful memories. Keith couldn’t deny either of them, when Shiro so obviously wanted to stay.

But as the night wore on, it became more and more difficult for Keith to stay focused. Meeting new people was taxing enough without wanting them to like him. There was a chasm of history that he could never cross, and too many ghosts that haunted their conversations. They shared wounds he couldn’t see, and when they came together to heal them, Keith could do nothing to help. Shiro looked like he belonged with them, energetic and animated like Keith had never seen him before, and that was when it hit him.

Keith was watching Shiro come home, and he wasn’t part of that world.

“Where are you boys staying?” Mrs. Holt asked as they gathered around her coffee table. “Because we have a spare room and a surprisingly sturdy air mattress.”

“That’s alright, we’ve already checked into our hotel. But thank you so much for the offer.” Shiro deferred with a smile. “And we can’t stay too long. We have to head back tomorrow, I have a work thing I need to get back for by the end of the week.”

“Oh no, Takashi! You can’t leave so soon, we haven’t seen you in ages.” She said as Pidge cried out angrily.

“I’m sorry, I know I haven’t been able to take a lot of time away, but I just need to finish up this project and I can visit more often. You’ll see.” Shiro tried to reassure them and gathered up the dishes from the table. “Let me help you with these.”

“Such a dear, I’ve got the rest.” Mrs. Holt trailed after Shiro and Keith rubbed a hand against his temples. This was some version of domestic bliss he’d never experienced before. He’d never had a family and it was never more clear that he didn’t belong. Pidge was a certified genius, Matt had been an ace engineer, Dr. Holt had been one of the top scientists in all of space exploration and his wife was a brilliant scientist as well. Shiro fit in perfectly, an amazingly skilled pilot even at such a young age, Keith was the one who didn’t fit. He couldn’t even imagine what it would be like meeting Shiro’s actual parents.

He was a nobody, no family, no job. How was he supposed to introduce himself when all he’d done was scam and steal. Shiro deserved this life and a family like this, nothing Keith could give him even came close.

He suddenly noticed that Pidge was watching him intently and stared right back. “What?” he asked bluntly.

“You’re not what I was expecting.”

“You were expecting something?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Of course, Shiro talks about you all the time. He hasn’t shut up about Keith this or Keith that in weeks. I sort of thought you’d be taller.”

“I’m tall enough.” Keith refused to fidget, his back ramrod straight, his arms steadily by his side. He would not crawl into his shirt in front of a teenager, even though he was severely tempted to. He had no idea that Shiro talked about him, and worse, he had no idea what Shiro said. Was it possible to mess up being himself? What  _else_  was Pidge expecting? “You just can’t tell from all the way down there.”

“Hey!”

In the kitchen, Shiro and Mrs. Holt were talking about something, but try as he might, Keith couldn’t make out the words of their conversation. Apparently sensing that his attention was divided, Pidge nudged him, only mildly perturbed.

Keith didn’t take the bait. He asked instead, “What are they talking about?”

Pidge didn’t hesitate before answering. “You.” 

Keith was stricken, looking over in towards the kitchen in a panic. Why would they be talking about  _him_? “No they’re not.”

“You’re never going to find out from here, are you?” Pidge rolled their eyes and gestured to the kitchen. “Go listen for yourself.”

He gave the teen a dark glare before shuffling over, telling himself that he really wasn’t going to listen even as he strained to catch every word.

“-really do to much for us.” Mrs. Holt was saying quietly. “I can’t thank you enough for everything, but Shiro, you can’t keep sending us money. These last few weeks has been so much, I’m worried about you.”

“You don’t have to worry, I’ve just got a really good project right now and if I can pull this off, then you won’t have to worry about Matt’s medical bills or Pidge’s tuition ever again. Please, just let me do this for you, I have to do something.”

“It’s not your fault what happened.”

There was silence for a long moment, the only sound the running water in the sink and the clink of plates. Finally, Mrs. Holt spoke again. “Your friend Keith, is he part of the reason you haven’t come visit?”

Shiro laughed and Keith could feel his stomach drop. “Actually, he’s the reason I’m here. He’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time and I’m lucky he’s been so amazing.”

“I’m glad. You deserve to be happy and he seems like a nice boy. Pidge’s been talking about how much they wants to challenge him to a race on that deathtrap hover bike they’ve been working on in the backyard.“

“Better not let either of them hear you. It might happen,” Shiro grinned. But Keith had heard too much. His ears were burning. He cleared his throat, stepping into the kitchen, and almost instantly regretted it when they both turned to look at him. He had not thought this through.

“… Do you need help?”

Shiro and Mrs. Holt shared a look that said too much, and yet, Keith had trouble catching any of it, then their host shook her head graciously. “No dear, but thank you for the offer.”

“We better get going,” Shiro said. “It’s getting late, and we had a long trip.”

The goodbyes took too long. Pidge held onto Shiro like they thought they were never going to see him again, and Mrs. Holt was only slightly better. Keith didn’t expect to be drawn in, and yet they welcomed him into their little group with open arms.

SIlence lingered on the return trip, but Keith hardly noticed. He needed time to gather his thoughts. They seemed to have spilled all over the car floor, rolling around like marbles. It was only after they found their hotel room that his partner drew him in, pulling him into an embrace that threatened to leave him breathless. Shiro pressed him against the wall, leaning in to kiss him gently once, twice and once more for good measure. “You were quiet on the way back.”

“It was…different.” Keith said lamely, unable to put his thoughts into words. “They make you happy.”

“You make me happy too.” Shiro’s lips pressed against Keith’s neck, kissing down to his collar bone. “And Pidge actually told me you have their seal of approval, so that’s pretty flattering.”

Keith sputtered, trying to understand what he’d done to make that scowling teen like him and came up empty handed. He’d never understand people like that and yet, it was comforting to know that the other parts of Shiro’s life hadn’t outright rejected him. “So, you’re glad we came?”

“Yes, and I’m glad you came with me. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve someone like you.”

“Oh shut up.” Keith gave Shiro a shove, but his ears were burning and he couldn’t stop smiling.

 

* * *

 

They took full advantage of Shiro’s week off.

The days passed in a happy blur, kinder than they had been, and more gentle. It had to end some time. Eventually, Shiro returned to work, and Keith made his way home, hoodie pulled down over his face, but even that couldn’t hide his smile. The knotted worry still sat in a solid lump in his stomach, but he clung to happier memories. He couldn’t focus on the fact he could lose Shiro now, not when they were so happy. One more month and this would all be over. Sendak would be bored with him, he would have forgotten all about Keith, and they could finally be together. He wasn’t going to let anything ruin that.

At least that’s what he told himself before a hand grabbed him by the front of his hoodie and yanked him into the back of a van before he could even shriek. He lashed out, attacking by instinct, but he was slammed down to the floor of the van and restrained before he had a chance to strike. Fear and panic welled in his chest, Sendak had found him and this was the end!

“Harold, you can let him up. I don’t need you breaking the kids arm.” A female voice snapped and the pressure on his back eased. Keith snarled up into a pretty face, but the woman didn’t have time for his theatrics. She was obviously in charge, uniformed and dangerous with a gun in her hip. Her light hair was pulled back, bright against her dark skin, but it was her eyes that kept Keith pinned to the spot.

“My name is Agent Allura Altea and we need to talk, Mr. Kogane.”

“I’m not a snitch.” Keith snapped, probably too quickly, and Agent Altea’s smiled sharpened at the edges as she took a seat in front of him. She looked like she wouldn’t look out of place on a palace thrown, but Keith thought she also looked like she could have killed a king to get there.

“Even against someone who wants you dead?” She asked. “There isn’t much we don’t know, Mr. Kogane. Do you know the penalty for impersonating a health inspector? I don’t think your roommate will be willing to pay the price.”

“You want Sendak.” Keith bristled like a wet cat, but he’d gone still, fearing the worst. “What do you want from us?”

“Your connection with Mr. Shirogane.” Keith wore surprise like it was the latest fashion, but if his reaction affected her, Agent Altea gave nothing away. “He’s in an interesting position, one we can fully appreciate.”

“You can go to hell.” Keith ground out, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the woman. “Shiro has nothing to do with any of this, so leave him out of it.”

“Come on, Mr. Kogane, be reasonable. We both know that Sendak is a very bad man who has hurt a lot of people.” She gestured towards Keith’s hand and its missing fingers as he curled it into a fist so she couldn’t see the scars anymore. “He’s going to end up hurting your friend too. I need someone to help me get information on his operations. Sendak was involved in a massive diamond heist and if I can get proof of his involvement, I can crack open his organization and find evidence of his other crimes. All the murders, the shakedowns. I need your help.”

“What you need is to leave us alone.” Keith started backing away, running the odds in his head of being able to fight off a pair of trained FBI agents. It didn’t look good. “If Sendak finds out any of this, you’ll get him killed.”

“I can make all of this go away, Keith. No charges for you and your friends, I can protect you. It’s the only way.”

“And if we don’t, you’ll throw us all in prison,” Keith scowled, sick of being cornered, but a fight preceded every way out he could imagine.

The agent’s smile was bland, but for a moment, it almost look forgiving. “Nothing quite so crude, but if you don’t, I can’t guarantee Sendak won’t take measures into his own hands. You’re gambling with very high stakes, and if we can find you, it’s only a matter of time before he does as well.”

The van stopped, and Agent Altea handed him a crisp white card. It bore her name and number in embroidered lettering, claimed she was a marketing analyst. “If you change your mind, Mr. Kogane.”

When her partner pushed open the van door, Keith saw that they were about two blocks from where they picked him up, in front the garage he usually parked his motorcycle at when he visited Shiro. His stomach twisted into knots, and he got out on unsteady feet. He turned to glare at the agent, but she and hers were already driving away.

He almost threw the card away, but some perverse stubborn streak made him shove it in his pocket. A deal from the FBI was no better than Sendak, they were dead either way. If they could just make it one more month, then it would all be over. Agent Allura could keep her promises, all they needed were each other.

 

* * *

 

Across town, Shiro had his own meeting, though his paid a whole lot better. He smiled to himself as he sat beside Sendak while his boss poured over his finances. He knew he was more ornamental tonight, a status of wealth and power like Sendak’s perfectly tailored suit or the thousand dollar watch on his wrist. Shiro was just another accessory with the heavy diamond collar around his neck that Sendak always preferred, and stripped to the wait to show off his scars. He figured Sendak did it to make his employees uncomfortable, Shiro knew people saw his wounds and his prosthetic and looked away, filling in the gaps themselves. He wondered what sort of stories they made up about him.

Sendak set down his pen and hooked a finger in Shiro’s collar, tugging him closer so Shiro fixed his attention on his boss. “Sir?”

“I know I’m neglecting you, pet. I’m sure you want a chance to stretch your legs and play. How about you go back to my bedroom and get ready for me, I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

Sendak had a deceptively lovely home. Made of chrome and glass, it was sleek and minimalist. Every polished corner shone with futuristic elegance. Almost artistic. Its shining exterior gave away none of the dark secrets it had born witness to. It was just another extension of Sendak’s terrifying empire. Its staff never asked too many questions.

Shiro knew the walls were soundproof, and the glass bulletproof. It a slaughter happened down the hall, he wouldn’t know of it until it was too late, and some days that was easier to accept than others. He still slowed as he entered the master’s bedroom. Not a pillow out of place gave away what he’d survived in it.

Their first session after Sendak had taken him apart, Shiro had greeted him with fists and teeth, drawing blood with feral ferocity, and Sendak only goaded him on. All this time together, and he still didn’t know what to expect, but when he saw the pictures spread out on Sendak’s bed, he expected the worst.

He was right.

Glossy photographs spoke volumes that Shiro didn’t want to hear. Keith was splashed across almost every single one of them. Keith with his hoodie drawn close, making it almost impossible to see his face. Keith laughing with an arm around Shiro’s shoulder. Keith and Hunk, walking back from Hunk’s university. Keith, Hunk and Lance at a bus stop. Keith holding Shiro’s hand. Keith on his motorcycle. Keith kissing Shiro, the expression on his face open and honest, taken from Shiro’s very own apartment, and Shiro couldn’t breathe.

Strong arms wrapped around Shiro’s waist, holding him steady as his hands started to shake, and it felt like all the air in the room had vanished.

He hadn’t even heard Sendak come in.

“You and I are going to have a little talk, pet.”


	7. Chapter 7

Sun filtered down between the buildings as Keith let his bike rumble to a stop, pulling off his helmet and breathing deep. He hadn’t slept well, too worried about who might be listening in on his life to close his eyes. He had been paranoid before, but it wasn’t really paranoia when you knew there was someone watching. Keith had waited until a decent hour, deciding it was better not to go rushing over to Shiro’s place until the sun came up at least.

Keith tucked his motorcycle out of the way and took the rest of the trip on foot to Shiro’s apartment, cutting down side streets and ducking into alleyways. He’d gotten lax about staying off the street or maybe he’d just been cocky, but he was always more careful these last few blocks. Whatever trouble followed him, he couldn’t let it touch Shiro. The folded business card that FBI agent Allura Altea had given him the day before was heavy in his pocket and Keith frowned. Shiro had to know what was going on as soon as possible. If the FBI were watching him, then they could both be in a lot of trouble.

He took the elevator up and knocked, waiting for Shiro to open the door but his friend’s face stopped him cold.

“Shiro? Is everything okay?”

Shiro was dressed in his suit, impeccable and expensive. Dark eyes regarded Keith impassively and gave no hint to any emotion that lay beneath. Something about seeing him like this always put Keith on edge. He called them Shiro’s work clothes, and when Shiro was dressed like that, he looked like he could be Sendak’s right-hand man. “I’m busy today, I don’t have time to see you.”

“Oh. Uhhhh, I can come back when you’re done?” Keith tried a smile, but the effort died.

Shiro didn’t move, his stoic expression unchanged and his eyes cold. “Keith, this whole thing, you and me, it isn’t working. I don’t think we should keep seeing each other, it’s dangerous and a waste of time.”

Keith recoiled like he’d been slapped, jerking away before he could stop himself. “But, Shiro _why_?”

He hated the way he sounded, hated the breathy nervous uncertainty that he could hide, but worst of all, he hated how Shiro looked at him because of it. He was too exposed, there was nowhere to turn and the confusion raw on his face. 

“Why? Keith…” It almost sounded like Shiro was laughing, and when he smiled like that, Keith wanted to crawl into a hole. “It was  _fun_ , and I appreciate what you and your friends did. Sendak’s a piece of shit, but in one month, I don’t have to be here. I’m going to have a life again, Keith. A real life, after everything I’ve been through, and last week at the Holts, it became clear that you have no place in it.”

Keith was speechless, silenced by his shame and wounded pride. He swallowed hard, trying desperately to make sense of his world falling apart. “I can change,” he pleaded, but it sounded weak to his own ears. “Just give me another chance.”

“Keith, stop.” Shiro looked at him with such pity that Keith had to look away. “I tried to make this work, but who are you? You’re not like Matt, or Pidge, or any of the people I know. I tried to change my mind, but there’s no point. I did like you, so I’m not going to string you along.”

“That’s not true.” Keith’s head spun and he pointed an angry finger in Shiro’s face. It felt like his heart had been carved out of his chest, but he lost himself to the rage so he didn’t have to focus on the pain. “You said you loved me. Y-you can’t just stop like it’s nothing!”  _Like I’m nothing_.

Shiro looked bored. “You were fun for a while, but I don’t have the time to worry about you. I am so close to getting out of here and you’ll never see me again. I’m trying to do this the right way, but if you want me to be more honest, I will. I’m out of your league and even a good fuck isn’t going to make you someone I’d bring home with me.”

“B-but.” Keith stuttered, taking a step back like he’d been hit. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Please, Shiro? Please don’t.”

“That’s not going to work, and stop begging, you’re just being pathetic.” Shiro snapped. “I’m done, so let me make this crystal clear. I don’t want to see you again, stop bothering me.” 

The door closed in Keith’s face and in the silence of the hallway, he broke down in tears.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Keith wandered, lost on his feet. He got down six blocks before he remembered he’d left his motorcycle behind, and then he just kept walking. He’d messed up. He didn’t know how or why or what he’d done to make things go wrong, but he was sure he’d missed something, some vital clue that would explain everything. Trying to rationalize it hurt. Trying to think of Shiro left him flushed with shame and scrambling for his anger. It made his blood boil, filled him with rage, made him spoil for a fight.

It was a good thing he’d forgotten his bike.

Keith waked until his legs ached and he couldn’t move any longer. It was only when he was too exhausted to move that he risked reliving their fight, and at least this time, when he got angry, there was nothing he could do.

Hunk texted him an hour into the second day. Keith turned off his phone. He kept walking. He wouldn’t stop for a long time.

 

* * *

 

“Hey bro, you okay in there?” 

Hunk always knocked, even when Keith didn’t lock his door. Keith didn’t look over his shoulder, intent on fixing the bandages just above his right elbow. The swelling was finally going down, but he cursed the clumsiness of his fingers, called them useless in the privacy of his mind. Just one more thing that Sendak had taken from him. He didn’t answer Hunk. That didn’t stop him.

“Hey… Let me help with that.”

“I’m fine.” Keith snapped, but Hunk had gotten used to his prickly moods and ignored the venom.

“Okay, well we ordered a pizza and there’s plenty for you too.” He continued with a friendly smile. “You haven’t really eaten in ages so you should probably have something. We won’t even make you chip in.”

“I said I’m  _fine._  Just leave me alone, Hunk!” Keith tightened the bandage with his teeth and stood, trying to push passed his roommate and escape, but Hunk refused to move.

“You’re not fine and you’re having some pizza. Don’t make me send Lance in here.” Hunk stuck the squirming man under his armpit and half-carried him out into the living room as Keith struggled and fought. He only let go to dump Keith on the couch as Lance handed him a slice of pizza, face uncharacteristically serious. He kept waiting for Lance’s snarky mocking comments, but they never came.

Keith glared daggers at them both. “What?”

“Why don’t you tell us, buddy?” Lance said, giving up and setting the plate on Keith’s lap. “You’re the one who’s been Mr. Broody McGee lately. Dude, what’s wrong? Did something happen with Shiro?”

“Shiro’s  _fine,_ who the hell cares how he’s doing? He’s probably bending over for Sendak and getting showered in cash right now, it’s not my problem.”

Hunk and Lance exchanged a look that spoke volumes. “Oh.”

Keith raised his hand to swipe at his cheek and jerked to a stop at the last second. He didn’t have a shiner, but the skin above his cheek bone still bore an ugly bruise. He didn’t want to focus on it, the same way he didn’t want to focus on Shiro, on what Shiro was doing, who Shiro was doing it with, or the looks Hunk and Lance shared.

“Bro, we didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?” Keith spat, rounding on Lance, never ready for whatever twisted barbs he wanted to screw in, but always unwilling to back down. He didn’t know how to deal with Lance when he looked so subdued.

“About Shiro.”

“That he’s gone? That he’s done?”  _That he never wanted to stay_. “The joke’s over Lance. You can fuck off.”

Keith wanted to throw everything he could reach across the room, tear it apart and leave it as torn and tattered as he felt, but like he’d been doing since he was a child, he forced down the urge. He couldn’t do anything about the anger that lingered just beneath his surface, but Keith refused to throw a tantrum. It just hurt. He was the joke, and he was always the last one to know.

Very carefully, Keith put his paper plate back on the coffee table and got to his feet. “I’m going. I’ve got a job.”

“Keith.” Lance pushed himself up off the couch and held out his hands to Keith like he could stop him from leaving. “I know you and I butt heads most of the time, usually because you’re a stubborn asshole who’s always wrong, but that’s besides the point. We’re here if you need anything. Want me to beat up Shiro?”

Hunk didn’t even bother to look up from his pizza. “He’d do it too, probably get himself killed trying.”

Keith squinted at the pair suspiciously and huffed in annoyance. “Don’t get yourself killed on my account. Or do. Whatever.” He slammed the door behind him, feeling awkward. He was almost positive that they were making fun of him somehow, but even if they were being honest, Keith didn’t know what to do with things like friendship and sympathy. 

God, he needed to punch something.

Keith went back to work, returning to old habits he’d stopped since Sendak had caught him trespassing (since the Paradise Lounge, since he’d met _Shiro_ ). He ran with anyone that would take him. The jobs paid off and the scores grew as he took bigger and bigger risks. Keith paid for his share of the apartment, and then he paid for Hunk’s. There was always a job market for people who didn’t mind walking on open coals. He stopped working alone, changed out his motorcycle to drive getaway cars for crews he’d never met before, crews who’d sooner spare him a bullet than give him an even split of their ill-gotten gains. He was doing better than he had in a long time, but Keith cared less about his wallet and more about the satisfying rush of adrenaline that told him he’d finally accomplished something. At least doing this, he didn’t have to doubt his skills anymore. He wasn’t a failure.

Sometimes he caught a glimpse of a nondescript grey van. It showed up less often once it became clear that he was just another street rat. It was a small blessing.

Days turned into weeks, and he crawled closer and closer to the end of the month. In that time, he’d messed up only three times and called Shiro. Shiro never answered and Keith hung up every time he heard the deep voice on his voicemail, never knowing quite what to say. That should have been hint enough. Some days he could stop thinking about Shiro completely, but the end of the month also brought the painful realization that Shiro would soon walk out of the city forever. Keith should have left him alone. 

Keith never did what he should have. Then one night, he did the worst thing imaginable. 

Maybe it was the alcohol that made him more reckless than usual or the annoyance that it still took a single bottle to make him tipsy. Maybe it was just the anger that welled up whenever he stopped moving long enough for his heartbreak to catch him. He was never sure if he hated Shiro more or if he hated himself for never being good enough. It was some confusing mix of the two and he couldn’t pull his feelings apart enough to understand. Maybe it was just the fact the heists and getaways didn’t give him that same rush they used to and he was desperate to feel anything besides the pain.

Or maybe, at the end of the day, he just needed to see Shiro one last time.

He broke into the Empire though its upper windows, avoiding the meaty thugs in suits that called themselves bouncers, and dropped down to the dance floor. The club was dark, lights flashing in time with the thumping bass so loud that no one even noticed him moving through the shadows. This wasn’t the first time he had broken into the heart of Sendak’s power, but this time all he wanted was a glimpse of something he couldn’t have. One quick look, that was all he needed and he could leave, no one would even know he was here. Sendak probably didn’t even remember who he was anymore.

Keith pressed through crowd, scanning the VIP area for the familiar shock of white hair as dancers jostled around him. He thought he was prepared, but his stomach still dropped at seeing Shiro again, like he’d been kicked in the gut. It wasn’t fair that Shiro was still so beautiful.

Shiro looked happy, shirt open to reveal a long slice of scarred skin down to his navel and his throat glittered with diamonds. When Sendak reached out for him, he leaned into his master’s touch like a well-trained pet seeking attention.

Shiro towered over them, like the most sinful offering, moving above the rest of them at his master’s bidding. Keith watched him from the dance floor. Each precious stone on his collar glittered in the black light, twinkling like stars, and Keith could see him almost perfectly. Keith was transfixed as the dark figures of Sendak’s hands danced over his skin, touching and taking at wanton leisure. 

Then he realized what they were doing and darkened with shame, watched the rhythm Shiro followed, flushed against Sendak’s body, saw where Sendak’s hands disappeared between his thighs. Anger and want rose like bile in the back of his throat. This was too much. He couldn’t go on, but he looked up to find Sendak’s steady intense gaze focused straight at him, and running was no longer an option.

He froze, terrified prey in a den of lions, and Sendak leaned in to whisper something in Shiro’s ear. Dread settled in Keith’s gut as he watched his old flame turn to see him, his expression impassive, before Shiro turned around in Sendak’s arms and kissed him.

Shiro moved to straddle his boss, turning his back to Keith. It was clear he was putting on a show and Keith was frozen still, staring in shock. Shiro rocked in a private rhythm but put on display for the entire club to see, riding Sendak through his clothes. Keith had never seen him like this before, so utterly and confidently sexual, almost demanding that everyone stop and watch him work. The crime lord settled his hands over Shiro’s hips, guiding him down as he rocked against him in time with the music. It was a slow grind, one Keith knew intimately well and he swallowed a groan. Shiro shrugged his shirt from his shoulders, leaving himself bare except for the glittering collar, his skin marred with bruises and bite marks that Keith could see from across the club.

The crime boss just smiled, sharp teeth bright white in the dark. He indulged his pet before guiding Shiro down from his lap onto the floor. Shiro settled on his knees between Sendak’s thighs obediently, deftly unzipping the crime lord’s pants. The last the Keith saw before turning away in disgust was Sendak stroking a hand through Shiro’s hair as he leaned in to suck his master off. 

Keith was going to be sick, his stomach roiled and he shoved his way through the dancers blindly. He had to get out of here, it felt like he couldn’t breathe. He almost made it before a hand closed around the back of his neck and hauled him backwards.

“If it isn’t the little rat. Mr. Sendak’s been looking for you.”

Keith came out swinging in an explosion of fists and violence. He floored the bouncer before he knew what hit him, breaking his nose in a spray of blood and ducking his partner’s reach. He knocked the gun out of the second bouncer’s hand before he had a chance to fully draw it, and clocked it over the third’s jaw. With a quick flick he had the bullet magazine sliding out and set it spinning across the dance floor as dancers screamed. Then he took off running, elbowing and shoving his way through the club. A shot rang out, but Keith didn’t stop to see who it hit, shoving way through the crowd. He burst out of the building, tasting the crisp night air for one sweet moment. Then cold metal slammed into the back of his skull.

Keith went down hard, but he wouldn’t stop fighting. There were just too many of them. Even his skill couldn’t save him from them all.

They left him alive, which was a surprise, though his body hurt enough that he wished for death. He didn’t know how long he lay there, in a puddle of his own fluids before he finally rolled himself to his feet. He drooled blood, spitting onto the asphalt as he tried to teach himself how to breathe again. His nose was bloody, left eye swollen so badly he could barely see anything, and every step was a jarring agony. Each breath pressed painfully against his broken ribs and the world spun beneath his feet as he dragged himself into a grimy alley to put himself back together again. Keith limped back to his apartment, ready to climb into bed for the next thousand years or until death, whatever happened to come first. He was done trying.

He wasn’t expecting Hunk and Lance to be curled up together on the couch or the clear worry on their faces. Keith didn’t have the energy to fight as Hunk wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and gently pulled him over to the couch with them, or when Lance ran to the kitchen to fill a hand towel with ice to press against his eye. It was the kindness more than anything that undid him, breaking through crumbling walls. It had to be all Shiro’s fault, Keith had never trusted anyone enough to show them weakness before, but Shiro had been so gentle that he actually missed the feeling that someone actually cared. It was all Shiro’s fault for making him vulnerable!

Why couldn’t he have been good enough to make Shiro stay?

Once Keith started crying, he couldn’t stop. His body shook with each gasping sob, finally letting his heartbreak win. He was too exhausted to keep it locked inside anymore. He’d let himself want something for once, he should have known better. Hunk and Lance crowded around him and he was even too tired to shove them away, clinging to them both like he was some kind of bawling child.

 

* * *

 

 

They didn’t talk about it in the morning, but Keith joined them for pizza more, and sometimes, they watched movies on their threadbare couch, and it was almost good.

Keith healed slowly, but he was back out running jobs sooner than he should have been. At first, it had started as a way to cope. Now Keith did it because he didn’t know what else to do. Some heists went better than others. Some went a lot worse.

He was on his fifth or sixth when everything went to hell. He lost his bike to a fiery death, but his helmet survived. Road rash had shredded his left thigh, and Keith hated to think about the scars he was going to have. He was long gone before the police got on scene, pulling himself home with his head held down and almost ready to fall off his shoulders. Some jackass bumped into him hard enough that it felt like he hit metal, and Keith sneered at the retreating back of the tall asshole who hurried away with his hat pulled down low. “Watch where you’re fucking going.”

He almost collapsed outside their hallway. It was a good thing Hunk was home. Keith didn’t trust himself to unlock his own door.

“Dude, why do you always look like death warmed over?” Hunk asked with less humor than he wanted and more worry, and Keith let him usher him inside, where he plopped down on the nearest couch. His limbs spilled all over it. “Someone dropped something off for you.”

“Was it ticking?” He asked dryly. He almost wasn’t joking.

“I hope not. Lance shook it a lot.” Hunk dropped a small padded envelope on Keith’s chest and leaned in curiously. “Is it something cool?”

“No.” Keith said definitively as he picked up the envelope with a frown. There was nothing on it, no name or return address. It clearly hadn’t come through the mail. “Where did you get this?”

“Some guy dropped it off. It was super weird too, he had a scarf pulled up over his face and this deep voice. No idea who it was, but I figured he was probably someone you work with since, you know, you never tell me anything about them.”

That guy he’d bumped into in the hallway. There’d been something familiar about him, the broad width of his shoulders, his height even though the man had kept his shoulders hunched. It was almost like-, no. No way, that was impossible. Keith ripped open the envelope, spilling out a small flash drive and nothing else, no note or message tucked inside. “Hunk, I need your laptop.”

“Okay, but if you give me a virus, you’re going to rewrite my thesis for me.” Hunk said cheerfully, handing his computer over.

Keith plugged it in, clicking anxiously through the files that popped up. They were photos, most of them dark, but he could make out the exterior of a warehouse and men standing around having a huddled conversation. There was no mistaking that one face, he saw it in his nightmares. _Sendak_.

“What is it?” Hunk leaned in closer as they sorted through the pictures. There were more shots, documents taken from Sendak’s desk and a ledger of numbers written in a code Keith didn’t understand. There was one date circled with a time and a meeting place.

“I don’t know what this means.” Keith’s brows furrowed, trying to find the hidden message that pulled all the images together. It was a warning, but he couldn’t tell what it was saying or who it was for. There was only one person who could have sent him anything about Sendak, but he had to have been long gone. The month milestone had passed, he should have been free…unless Sendak decided he was too fond of his perfect pet.

Hunk reached over and peered into the envelope, shaking it out into his hand. A tiny bead tumbled out, catching the light as Hunk held it up between two fingers and whistled. “Dude, is this a real diamond?!”

The diamond theft! The pieces fell into place so fast his ears were ringing and he grabbed the diamond, stuffing it back into the envelope with the flash drive. He darted out the door with Hunk still calling his name.

It wasn’t hard to find them, the same dull grey van was parked out front like it had been abandoned. In this neighborhood, any car that sat for that long and kept its wheels was unusual, but the Feds couldn’t know that they stood out like a store thumb. Keith marched up to the van and pounded on the door with his fist.

“Agent Altea, I want to make a deal!”

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

The penthouse was quiet. It had been on most nights for weeks now. It reeked of an absence that made it feel empty and hollow, one that Shiro had once found comforting. Shiro just couldn’t remember how. He stayed in his room most days, kept the lights off everywhere else. He didn’t need them, especially not for this.

“I just wanted to confirm the schedule change. I thought we were meeting on Thursday.” Shiro said, his tone carefully light. This wasn’t the first time he’d needed to make sure. It counted as the third time his manager ‘accidentally’ botched his schedule. Three times in four weeks. Just enough to create a pattern without raising suspicion.

Over the phone, Sendak sounded more impatient than normal. Good. 

“When I want you, I’ll call for you.” He said shortly. “Your job is to show up when  _I_  want you.”

Shiro’s voice lowered, husky and wanting over the phone. “I know, I just miss you. My bruises are almost gone.”

That made Sendak pause and he gave a satisfied, possessive laugh that had Shiro shivering. “Is that what you want, pet? Don’t worry, I won’t let you go too long without some attention, I don’t want you to feel neglected. I have a few new toys I’d like to play with next time. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes sir.” Shiro made himself sound breathless as Sendak laughed again and hung up. Shiro had to stop himself from flinging the phone across the room with a growl.

_“You and I are going to have a little talk, pet.”_

Shiro could still hear the smug cruelty in Sendak’s voice and the weight of his body pressed against his as Shiro dropped the photos of Keith with nerveless hands. 

_“I can explain.” His voice shook as he desperately scrambled to come up with any kind of explanation as Sendak’s gentle hands stroked down his sides. Shiro closed his eyes, swaying slightly, every muscle pulled tight._

_“Let me guess. You’ve been colluding with the little traitor in my organization? You’ve been bending over for me on my exclusive contract that I pay a great deal of money for, then I turn around, and you’re fucking street trash on the side? And not just any street trash, an enemy.”_

_Shiro’s heart knocked painfully against his ribs, the frantic beat the loudest sound in the room. He didn’t give Sendak the chance to hurt him. He struck first and he struck hard._

_Sendak thought he needed to be goaded. He had no idea what Shiro would do to keep Keith safe. He had no idea what Shiro was capable of. This time Shiro was ready, more familiar with his enemy’s tactics and less concerned about his job. His thoughts were crisp with the same clarity he’d had behind the wheel of a rocket ship. Shiro focused on avoiding Sendak’s hits, saving himself from grief while tiring out his opponent. He kept Sendak’s hands busy, stopped Sendak from reaching for his holster, and when his enemy least expected it, he kicked his legs out from under him, taking the fight to the ground. They tussled, scrambling for purchase, until Sendak withdrew his gun._

_Shiro stole it from him, metal hand bending back his thumb like he wanted to dislocate it. He fired two shots at the mob boss’s head, both bullets burying in the floor by his ear. Even with the silencer, Sendak’s ears were ringing, and he looked up at Shiro with scorching anger in his bright eyes._

_“You won’t touch him,” Shiro hissed, breathing hard, but his grip was steady as he pressed the barrel of the gun against Sendak’s forehead. It was still warm._

_“I’ll skin your dumb bitch alive.” Sendak sneered. “Don’t worry, pet. You can watch.”_

_“I’ll kill you.”_

_Shiro laughed. “Then my men’ll do it anyway.”_

_Shiro’s lip peeled back in a vicious snarl, grinding the barrel of the gun against Sendak’s head. “I won’t let them have the chance!”_

_“You really think that I don’t have someone watching him? You’ve seen the pictures, you know how close I am to him already. Anything happens to me and he’ll be dead before you leave the room.”_

_Shiro’s eyes were wild, chest heaving as he squeezed down on the trigger. This could be a lie! He could end this now, but if he was wrong, there was no way to save Keith from Sendak’s men. Shiro closed his eyes and bowed his shoulders like he was crushed under the weight of his responsibilities. “What do you want?”_

_“You.” Sendak said with a laugh, taking the gun from Shiro’s numb fingers. “Your obedience. I’m not ever planning on letting you go and as long as you’re a good pet, then I’ll make sure your bitch stays alive. Cross me or cheat on me again, and I’ll gut him. I’m always going to be watching, pet. I’ll know.”_

_They were trapped, if Sendak’s men were watching Keith, then there was no way out. He would do whatever it took to keep Keith safe, and surrendered, letting Sendak pull him down to seal the deal._

” _I didn’t think you would make it this far,” Sendak said softly, admiring his gun. It was a compliment that sent shivers down Shiro’s spine. Then Sendak swung his fist, slamming the butt of his pistol against Shiro’s skull, and his vision swam._

Shiro wished he’d forgotten that night, but even with Sendak playing punching bag with the back of his head, everything stood out in blinding technicolor. Yet tonight everything was going to change. His bags were packed, ready to go at a moment’s notice. If his plan worked, everything would unravel quickly, and he wanted to be past the city limits before the rest of the world could know.

If it didn’t work, well, Shiro was afraid of that, and with good reason. Even if he wasn’t caught, Sendak would be out for blood, and everyone in the city would pay. Leaving would be even more dangerous than staying. Shiro couldn’t think about it. He didn’t want to lose his nerve.

Sendak was a busy man. Just because he wasn’t available to meet Shiro didn’t mean that he would be at the diamond exchange, but Shiro thought he would be. He’d been complaining for weeks about it. It was a big enough project that he’d want to handle it person. It didn’t surprise Shiro to learn that Sendak had trouble trusting others.

It was to happen at a warehouse was by the docks, somewhere out of the way and quiet. Shiro had no doubt that the police wouldn’t be doing any patrols tonight, but that worked in his favor. In this city, calling the cops would backfire. There was only one person he could trust that wasn’t in league with Sendak, and with any luck, Keith would be able to play his part in this mess.

Shiro had been gathering information for weeks, trailing after Sendak’s men and stealing quick photos whenever he had the chance. It was dangerous work to build a case, but his other option was to sit like a docile dog at Sendak’s feet until the crime boss decided to kill him. This was his only chance of escape without involving a body bag and he grasped at it, reckless and desperate for release. He hated to involve Keith, but there was no one else he could trust. He only hoped that Keith knew someone who could use the information and help them both.

He’d make everything up to Keith afterwards. He’d find a way. They were going to be okay. 

(And he hoped, with more fervor still, that someday Keith would forgive him.) 

Shiro exhaled slowly, looking around the scattered pieces of his life and steadied his nerves. The only way to keep Keith safe was to take out Sendak, tonight was the best chance they would ever have. 

He loaded his bags into the car and headed out to an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town. One last night and then freedom.

He parked between two abandoned crates and made the rest of the way on foot. Shiro knew he needed to find a strong vantage point, somewhere he’d be able to get a clear view of the meeting, not unlike a sniper. And if Sendak had any on call tonight, he needed to make sure that they didn’t get in his way.

He spotted Sendak’s security team from a mile away, familiar now with the way he arranged his forces. They had all the exits guarded except the second story windows which no sensible person would have made a play for. Shiro proved time and time again that he was anything but sensible.

He ended up hanging by his finger tips on the window ledge before slowly pushing the glass pane open. He dragged himself inside and landed with catlike grace on the dusty floor. Shiro froze, waiting for any sign that he’d been noticed, but the chatter from the warehouse remained benign. So far so good. Then Shiro realized he wasn’t alone.

The other figure walked with a limp, stalking through the second floor, and dragging himself along the same route Shiro had mentally mapped out. He kept to the shadows, head down, stance tense like a hunting dog. Shiro had seen it a thousand times before. All of Sendak’s men had that same, cagey walk, like predators who’d been on the prowl for too long.

Shiro flexed his metal hand, creeping up behind the shadowy figure, and prepared to strike. If he was fast enough and incapacitated the man before he saw anything, no one had to die. He moved quickly, jumping the figure and squeezing down in a choke hold but he wasn’t expecting the other man to fight back with such viciousness. They scuffled, Shiro _oomfing_ as he was elbowed hard in the stomach, and he almost missed the bright flash of the knife in the shadows.

He grabbed the blade with his metal hand, stopping it inches from his chest, and stared at Keith’s shocked face. In that moment, the only thing he could think was,  _he really does keep a knife in his pants._

_“_ Shiro?!” Keith’s harsh whisper dragged him back and they broke apart, Keith quickly slipping the knife away.

“What are you doing here? It wasn’t supposed to be you, you were supposed to get help!” Shiro whispered back frantically.

“So it  _was_  you! I knew it. I’ve come to get you out of here.” The words had sounded so much more heroic in Keith’s head than they did while hissing at each other in the darkness. Sendak’s men could be just around the corner.

For a moment, Shiro didn’t care where they were or how dangerous it was. He wrapped his arms around the younger man and drew him close, pressing a fierce kiss to Keith’s forehead before tucking him against his chest. Keith froze, caught between wanting and disbelief. They were over, Shiro had been brutally clear about it.

“I’m so sorry, Keith.”

Keith had expected many outcomes, but this was not one of them. He’d expected to need to convince Shiro to run away with him. He’d expected to argue with him, and at his lowest points, he expected to have to drag him away. He didn’t think Shiro wanted to stay with Sendak, but more and more, he’d been teaching himself to doubt everything he knew about Shiro. In a way, he was right, but it had him retreating. The distance left him cold and vulnerable, his skin still prickling where he’d been kissed, and he wouldn’t meet Shiro’s eyes. Self-preservation was a bitch. “You have to get out of here. We don’t have much time.”

He didn’t see how Shiro’s face fell. This close Shio could see the healing bruises across Keith’s face, the fatigue that etched lines into his skin. He remembered seeing them up close, on the vividly clear screen of Sendak’s phone as the crime lord pinned him down, his words hot in his ear.

_“Does it bother you?”_

_“Is he dead?”_

_“Of course not, pet. We had a deal.”_

_“Then I don’t care.”_

Sendak’s voice had been slick with sadistic satisfaction. It slid over Shiro’s skin like oil, not unlike the greedy way he claimed Shiro. That night, Shiro went home and cried, cursing himself for ever taking the job. Cursing himself for letting Keith go.

“Not yet.” He pleaded softly, itching to reach out and close the distance between them. Now that he saw Keith, every moment Shiro spent missing him returned tenfold, urging him to take away the sad, hurt look in his eyes. He had no way of knowing that Keith only wanted to do the same. “I have to get closer. I just need a little more proof and this will all be over. Keith, I know you have no reason to believe me, but I never wanted to hurt you, and, and when this over, I’ll tell you everything.”

Keith squirmed, wanting so badly to let himself believe that Shiro meant what he said, but he couldn’t let himself get hurt again. Not now when they were still in so much danger and there wasn’t time to let himself break down in Shiro’s arms. “There’s no time, we have to get out of here!”

“Not until I find what I’ve been looking for. I have to take him down, Keith, we won’t be safe until I can make sure of it.” Shiro couldn’t let go, he had to see this through. This would be the best chance any of them had, Sendak was going to pay for everything.

Shiro turned away and gestured down the dark aisles of the warehouse. “Stay here, I just need to get a few pictures and we can go. Don’t let anyone see you.”

“No way!” Keith grabbed onto Shiro’s arm and scowled. “I’m not letting you do this alone.”

He was always so damn stubborn. Shiro shouldn’t have been surprised.

They crept through the warehouse, listening for any sound that could give away their prey. A soft light spilled out of an office and the two men ducked low, peeking in through the windows to see inside.

It became clear that Sendak wasn’t the only player on the field. He was staring down another team. Shiro could tell by the way that Sendak’s men closed ranks that they were dealing with someone they didn’t entirely trust. 

“Those must be the thieves.” Shiro whispered. “I recognize their point man. I recognize him from other meetings.”

“What?” Keith hissed, unsure if he was impressed or appalled that Shiro was taking such risks.

“Wait, is that-”

They fell quiet, watching with bated breath as one of the thieves stepped forward, pulling out a metal box from within a nondescript backpack. Shiro had his camera ready, and snapped a picture as soon as it opened. It was a good thing, or he would have missed it, too busy picking his jaw up off the floor. Both he and Keith stared as brilliant diamonds brightened the dim room, almost like they carried their own light. One of Sendak’s men moved at the same time, to place a USB drive on the same table.

“That’s it,” Shiro nodded. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Move, and we paint the wall with your brains.”

The pair froze, Shiro slowly looking up into the barrel of a gun and cursed under his breath. 

“Well, looks like we caught the boss’s nosy whore! Mr. Sendak is going to want to have a word with you.” The guard sneered as Shiro and Keith exchanged a look. Keith gave a tiny nod and Shiro almost smiled. They were dead either way, better to go out swinging.

They moved at the same time, completely in sync. Shiro knocked the gun from the guard’s hand, twisting it to the side as it fired wildly as Keith drew his knife and cut him down. There was shouting in the office as the other men joined the fight and Shiro dove behind a pile of crates to avoid the sudden hail of bullets. 

One man cried out as Keith’s knife buried itself in his arm, dropping his weapon with a shout. The others turned their attention to Keith, shooting into the shadows to try and pin him down as Shiro took advantage of their distraction. He threw his weight against the crates, slamming his body into the precariously balanced stack until they slowly overbalanced. They came crashing down on the criminals with a crash, trapping them under the debris.

They forced open a window for opportunity, and it almost looked like they were going to make it. The guards were either ducking for cover or down for the count. Shiro caught Keith’s glance across the way, a delirious sort of smile splashed across his face, and he would have made for the exit, if automatic gunfire hadn’t opened just then.

Both of them froze in terror as Sendak emerged from the office, his expression a mask of rage, almost as foreboding as the rifle he leveled at Shiro’s heart. “That’s enough.”

The thieves’ ringleader was right behind him, distaste written all over his face. “This was your business, Sendak?”

“Not for long.” He stalked towards Shiro, as regal and as deadly as a king in his castle, his lips peeled back in a vicious sneer. Old fear curled through Shiro’s chest, beaten into him after long, painful sessions. That was all Sendak had ever given him. “I should have known you would try something stupid. You’re going to pay for this, pet, but first-”

He turned towards Keith, taking aim. “I’m going to do what I should have done weeks ago.”

_“No!”_  Shiro ignored the danger and lunged at Sendak, sending them both toppling over into the crates and fighting for the gun. “Don’t you touch him!” He snarled as Sendak’s fist smashed into his face. Shiro reeled, trying to get his barrings, but he was too late. 

Sendak took his shot.

Gun fire tore through the air, slicing through his arm. Shiro screamed as his prosthetic became dead weight, tugging heavily against its terminal. 

Pain and rage sang through Shiro, blazing uncontrollably as he threw himself at the crime lord. Shiro twisted his body, sliding down to the floor and kicking at Sendak’s knees hard enough to crunch bone. His enemy went down with a scream as Shiro wrestled him with his one good arm. He attacked like a feral beast driven by violence, spitting blood down at the crime boss and grappling for the automatic weapon. Dark eyes blazed with hated as Shiro pressed it down across Sendak’s neck to choke him as his captive wheezed and rattled beneath him. “Don’t you  _ever_  fucking touch him!”

“Shiro!” He could hear Keith calling his name in the distance, but the world narrowed down to the cruel smirk still twisting Sendak’s mouth.  _Never again_.

“Drop the weapons!” Suddenly there was shouting, too many voices for Shiro to understand. He was pulled from Sendak, still fighting, and the gun ripped from his hands. The men forced him to his knees, surrounding the office and training their weapons on the remaining guards. It took him too long to notice the FBI name emblazoned across their bullet proof vests.

“Very nice.” Agent Allura said briskly, stepping over the unconscious bodies of the criminals as her people rounded up the rest. “Though I do remember telling you to stay out of this and to let me handle it, Keith.”

“And you said you would keep Shiro out of this!” Keith snapped, brushing off two armed FBI agents with surprisingly little care, or a whole lot of stupidity. He tried to put himself between the agent and Shiro, an attempt made less impressive because both of them towered over him, but with blood on his hands and a manic gleam in his eyes, he could be very convincing. 

“That would be easier if Mr. Shirogane wasn’t so dead set on playing detective.” She didn’t sound as perturbed as she could have been. Nor did she sound like he was going to get handcuffs out. “Don’t go far, boys. We need your statements.”

They were left alone, in favor of more violent offenders, but Keith grabbed Shiro by the elbow and started dragging him to the end of the warehouse. Shiro still looked stunned. “You did all this?”

“Agent Altea did,” Keith mumbled, not looking back and not at all bothered that Shiro was talking to the back of his head. “I, I had to try something. You were doing something reckless.”

“Maybe a little.” Shiro admitted. He reached for Keith slowly, drawing him closer but giving him every opportunity to pull away. His body still shook with adrenaline, the last few minutes a blur. It was over, Sendak was in FBI hands and they were finally free, but it was hard to think about anything other than the way Keith felt in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I understand.” Keith looked anywhere but at Shiro’s face, awkward and confused. 

“You don’t understand. There’s so much you need to hear.” The words made Keith tense and he jerked his head up, staring into Shiro’s dark eyes. Shiro gently traced his thumb under Keith’s bruised eye, wanting so badly to kiss him but unsure if that was crossing a line or if they were too ruined to try again. It ached to be around him. Keith didn’t even know how much he missed him.

Keith scowled, more angry at the way his own heart skipped and the embarrassing weakness in his voice than anything else. Everything in him wanted to throw his arms around Shiro and pretend that things were the way they’d always been, but it didn’t change what had happened. He was never going to fit in with Shiro’s life no matter how much he wanted to, he was never going to be good enough.

Shiro watched the pain play out over Keith’s face. He had caused this, hurting Keith to keep him safe though the bruises from Sendak’s beating proved how little it had mattered to the crime lord. Shiro took his hands and Keith let him lead the way. Agent Altea would have to find someone else to play witness, but she looked like she had her hands full. Now was a terrible time for confessions, but the truth beat against Shiro’s chest like a bird in a cage, all the things he wished he could have said to Keith in the weeks they’d been apart. _I’m sorry. I love you. I only wanted to keep you safe._ Maybe Keith would never forgive him for what he’d done, but he would spend the rest of his life trying to make up for it.

“Keith, I have to tell you-” He started, “Can we talk somewhere private?”

Keith nodded, following Shiro down one dark aisle of the warehouse away from the swarming FBI agents and turned, just to make sure no one was following them. He felt like he’d been kicked in the gut, winded and exhausted. Survival had taken everything he had and there was nothing left to defend himself if Shiro was going to twist the knife. Keith already knew the speech, he’d heard it in his own mind every time his doubts crept in. _I never loved you. Thank you, but I’m leaving. You’re not like them._

All he had to do was keep it together long enough to get home, then he would never have to think about this again. Sendak would be arrested, Shiro would be gone, and they would all be safe. He could get on with his life and pretend that he’d never fallen in love before.

He didn’t see the moment Shiro tensed, didn’t see him grab his chest, or notice the way his knees buckled. He didn’t know until his hand slipped from his grip, and pained moan caught in his throat.

“Shiro… Shiro!”

Keith was too late to catch him.

Shiro gasped for breath, face contorted in agony as Keith gathered him into his arms. He struggled to speak, trying to force out the words before he lost the chance to say them forever, but his body refused to obey. “I need the paramedics!” Keith screamed for Agent Altea, for the police, for anyone who could hear him to help. He pleaded, rocking Shiro in his arms and b egged him to hold on. “Help is on the way. Just stay with me Shiro, please. You can’t leave me now. Please, please!”

He heard Allura’s voice snap out orders as people rushed over and pulled Shiro from his arms, but it was too late. By the time help arrived, Shiro had stopped breathing.


	9. Chapter 9

The first time Shiro woke up, everything was too bright. His stomach rolled, empty and cramping as waves of nausea threatened to drag him under. His right arm hurt, but he couldn’t move it. He couldn’t move at all. Through the haze of paralysis, fear chased Shiro. He was terrified that Sendak had drugged him again, that he was waiting with cruel hands and vicious barbs to prove another point. He was lost again, falling and falling and falling, and nothing he could do would stop it. He couldn’t save himself. He couldn’t save anyone. He was young again, young and scared and their was blood on his knees and broken glass scattered on the floor. A scream clawed its way up his throat, frantic for release but he could barely make a sound. He was going to be sick.

“ _Tashi… Wa’shi wa_ , Ma, Ma please…”

“Mr. Shirogane, can you hear me?”

Shiro drifted.

The next time he woke up, someone was crying. The ground beneath him was swaying, but it was a gentle rhythm, like the lazy waves of the ocean’s surface. His eyes hurt. Everything was still too bright. But someone was crying and he couldn’t make them stop.

“He’s going to be okay,” a familiar voice said from far away. He wished he could hear it. It was an important voice. Shiro couldn’t remember why, but a shock of dark hair came into view, followed by a scowling, severe face that was splotchy with concern. “He’ll wake up.He’s not Matt.”

The crying only got louder. Shiro was sorry, Matt was a great guy. Matt would’ve wanted to wake up, but Shiro didn’t want to right now.

He slept for a long time, searching for his strength and waiting for everything to stop feeling so heavy. It didn’t happen all it once, but the last time Shiro woke up, the room was dark. A solitary lamp on the far end his hospital room chased away the shadows, and outside, the halls had gone quiet. He wasn’t alone. No one had left him alone since he got out of surgery.

There was a warm hand on his belly, just below the mop of messy hair that rested by his hip. Every movement was sluggish and ungainly, but Shiro reached out, and he didn’t stop until he could comb his fingers through soft locks. Keith squirmed and looked up with sleep still clinging to his lashes as he struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. The moment he came back to himself, his eyes went wide with shock. “Shiro…”

Shiro hadn’t seen him like that in a long time.

“Hey, baby.” He slurred his words, vision still blurred. Shiro tried to sit up, but there were too many tubes and wires that held him down. His chest was a mass of stiff bandages and he was sure it would hurt if he wasn’t currently feeling like he was floating two inches out of his body. Even his face felt numb, but he hoped he was smiling anyways. Just seeing Keith was enough to make him feel better.

Keith frowned quickly, caught off guard by the vulnerability and tenderness in Shiro’s expression. He turned away to hide his embarrassment, smoothing out the sheets on the hospital bed and pointedly ignoring the endearment. “You’re awake! Let me get a nurse, they’ll probably need to-”

Shiro wrapped his hand around Keith’s before he had a chance to pull away and Keith froze, poised to jerk back or fight at the slightest provocation. “Stay with me.” He murmured. “I missed you so much.”

“I-I should get someone. You’ve been out of it for days.”

“Stay.” Shiro tried to pull Keith down with him. “I have to tell you.”

“He’s awake!” A loud voice caused them both to jump and chaos flooded into the room. Pidge clung to Shiro’s arm crying as Mrs. Holt soothed a hand across his forehead, her own face streaked with tears. “Shiro, we were so worried about you. They couldn’t tell us when you’d wake up.”

“Someone get the doctors!”

There were balloons and flowers and too many people pressing in to see him. His mother held him close, his father smiling down on him. Hunk looked like he’d been crying. Everyone was talking at once and he was overwhelmed, voice breaking as he tried to answer all of their questions at once. “I’m okay, what happened?”

“The shrapnel in your heart moved, they had to do open heart surgery to repair the damage but you’re okay! You’re going to be okay now.”

Shiro struggled to understand, shaking his head to clear the haze. “I thought they couldn’t do anything.”

“There wasn’t much of a choice when they brought you in. You were dead for three minutes!” Pidge said, impressed.

“Dead?” Shiro croaked, and a thousand voices answered him at once. He looked from one face to the next, each of them a little older than he remembered, a little more tired, but all familiar. He hadn’t seen his parents in years. A perfect storm of guilt and fear stilled his hand every time he tried to call, but they were here now. His mother with gray in her hair, and his father’s glasses fogging up as he cried. They’d flown across the country just to see him.

It was a circus, and Keith had a front row seat. They’d tried to draw him into it earlier, but every question they asked left him tongue tied with shame. He let Mrs. Holt answer for him, let everyone else fill in the blanks. No one needed to know that he and Shiro had already broken up. Eventually they stopped asking, but Keith wouldn’t leave Shiro’s bedside. Shiro would bear new scars now, but they would be scars that told a story of how he reclaimed his life. One better and brighter than the one he left behind. It was just a shame there was no room for Keith in it.

He watched them come together with his heart in his throat, but Keith managed a private smile. It was what Shiro wanted. It was what he needed, and he was going to be okay now. Keith would learn to be happy for him, and some day, he hoped it wouldn’t hurt to remember him. He slipped out of the room, as quiet as a mouse and carefully shut the door behind him. There was no one in the hall to see him wipe away his tears.

“Keith?” Shiro asked, looking around blearily, tired of the incessant questions about things that didn’t matter as much. “Keith where’s Keith?”

Hands tried to restrain him, nurses ordered him to rest, but Shiro fought them off and tried to swing himself out of the bed. The IV lines tugged painfully at his skin as he raised his voice. “Where is he?”

“Everyone out.” One of the nurses said briskly, ushering out the crowd of well-wishers. “He needs more rest, this is upsetting him. We’ll let you know when you can come back to visit.” Two nurses held Shiro down as his guests spilled out into the hallway, upping his medication until he stopped resisting and flopped back bonelessly on the bed.

Pidge was the one who spotted Keith by the elevator moments before the door opened and sprinted down the hallway to smack him as hard as they could. “Where are you going?”

“Ow!” Keith glared and rubbed his elbow. “I’m going home. Why?”

“He was asking for you! You can’t just leave without saying goodbye to him.” Pidge scolded and Keith narrowed his eyes.

“I can do what I want, he’s fine now. The doctors said he’s going to make it.”

“So? I know that my brother might not wake up and if I had a chance to talk to him again, I sure as hell wouldn’t just leave.” Pidge spat back. “Shiro has been like a brother to me since before the accident and I almost lost him too. We all almost lost him. So maybe you should go and actually say goodbye before just going.”

“I…” There was no way to win with Pidge giving him that death glare and he fidgeted uncomfortably. “Fine. I’ll go say goodbye, are you happy?”

“Yes.” They huffed, and as Keith turned back towards the room, he thought he heard them add, “And you should be, too.”

Keith figured he could pop in and out of the room, say goodbye, and beat a hasty retreat in under two minutes. That was one-twenty seconds. He’d time himself. Yet once he got to Shiro’s room, his hand froze on the door, and Keith didn’t know what to do. The little group that Shiro had gathered, classmates, relatives, and friends watched him with open curiosity. The only reason Keith stepped inside was because they made him uncomfortable. He regretted it immediately.

The light had been dimmed again, and Shiro lay immobile in bed, breathing deeply like he was halfway to sleep. Keith pressed against the wall, trying to remain out of sight. He figured as long as he spent time by his side, no one would heckle him on his way out.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Shiro asked, voice gravel rough, in the same sleepy way it always did after a long nap, and something in Keith’s chest knotted painfully. This wasn’t fair.

“I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Of course you didn’t.” But Shiro was smiling, fond and sweet. Keith told himself that it was just the drugs. Shiro must have been on the good stuff. “Keith, please come closer.”

Even now, even after everything, Keith couldn’t say no to him. He ought to have learned his lesson by now.

“Keith,” Shiro started again, licking his lips. There were bags under his eyes, and he looked so pale. Keith reached for the cup of ice chips on the dresser without needing to be asked, and slowly helped Shiro take one in.

“You don’t have to explain anything,” he murmured. “I know why you did it.” Keith might not have always been careful, but he knew a thing or two about strategy. Shiro had wanted his freedom. In order to take Sendak down, he’d needed to get close to him. It was all a ploy; he could see that now. Keith and their relationship were just collateral damage. “You did good. Sendak’s going away for a long time, and you get your - you get what you wanted. Thank you.”

“I’m sorry.” Shiro didn’t hesitate, plunging into the truth to keep Keith from running away again. If he walked out the door now, Shiro knew he couldn’t stop him. He tried to keep his scattered thoughts focused, fighting the sedatives until he could say his piece.

“Shiro, it’s okay. Just rest-”

“It’s not okay! I hurt you, I never meant to. I just… I just wanted to protect you. He had pictures of you, I-I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

Keith took a wary step back as if he could put a safe distance between himself and his heartbreak. “You could have told me,” Keith insisted, his brows furrowed with concentration, mouth a pinched unhappy line. “I would’ve been careful. I - you can _trust_ me.”

“I know I can. You’re the only one I know I can always trust.” Shiro whispered, and the earnestness in his gaze made Keith fidget. “But he had me under surveillance. I didn’t know how close he was. He had someone watching you and if I stepped out of line, he would have killed you. I had to make it seem real to convince him. It seemed like the best choice at the time. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t believe in you more.”

It was overwhelming. Relief and betrayal. Concern and anxiety. Keith felt like he was being thrown around like a pinball, and he didn’t know how to make himself stop. It would be so easy to give in. Shiro held a place in his heart Keith didn’t know existed, but Shiro always seemed to know how to push. Keith didn’t know how to defend himself.

“But you were right. I’m not like them,” he said, gritting his jaw so hard, his teeth hurt and gestured out to the hall. “I’m not like any of them in your life.”

“No, you’re like _me_.” Shiro said gently. “I don’t want you to change, you’re the one I fell in love with.”

Keith inhaled sharply, tensing all the way to his toes as he waited for the other shoe to drop, but Shiro just held out his hand. He could barely keep it from swaying. “Keith come’ere…”

The moment he could, he took Keith’s hand and twined their fingers together, a lopsided smile creeping across his mouth. This time, Keith wouldn’t be able to leave so quickly, but Keith didn’t want to. Keith reached out, cupping Shiro’s chin and carefully running his thumb over the curve of his lower lip. Shiro sighed, tilting into his palm, his eyes fluttering shut. It almost hurt to look at him. “I missed you.”

“I thought about you,” Shiro whispered. “Whenever he tried to… There was nothing he could do. I just thought about you, and you helped get me through, and it didn’t hurt as much. I’ve heard I got a new heart now, but I think the Keith still fits.”

Keith flushed a deep red and silently cursed Hunk for the stupid advice that was haunting him. “You’re high, they’ve got you on painkillers.”

“Probably. But I love you.” Shiro said in a droopy sing-song. “I missed you so much, I was hanging on by the skin of my Keith.”

“Oh my god, stop.” He couldn’t keep himself from laughing, relieved and slightly hysterical as he leaned into Shiro’s touch. “If you’re making Dad jokes, you must be fine. You’re the worst.” Keith wanted to climb into the bed with him, wrap himself in Shiro, and finally let himself be happy. It was a strange feeling.

“Tell me you love me too? You’ve got to tell me, Keith. You give me a heart on. I have an affection erection.” Shiro’s head spun as the sedatives made him giddy, but Keith was laughing and that was the only thing in the whole world that mattered. Then Shiro’s lower lip trembled, caught in a wave of worry that Keith wanted to soothe away. “I won’t hurt you again. I’m sorry. If you don’t wanna stay, I get it, I just-”

Keith hushed him with a finger, and carefully traced it down the curve of Shiro’s mouth as he leaned in. He stopped, just a breath away from touching Shiro, eyes cut open just enough to see the way Shiro turned to him, expectant and hopeful. Keith had never been more sure of anything in his life. “I love you too, Takashi.”

They wouldn’t let go again.

 

* * *

 

“Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“It’s been eight weeks, I’ve done everything the doctors said. If you’re not sure I’m _up_ for this, I could give you a visual demonstration.” Shiro said in exasperation as he tugged on Keith’s pants.

Keith laughed into Shiro’s mouth, drawing him into a kiss as he did his utmost to be as useless as possible. It had been eight long weeks of relearning where they stood in the city’s new order, of dodging the power vacuum left by Sendak’s destruction, of doctor’s appointments and physical therapy. Keith needed glasses to drive now, his vision almost completely blurry in his bad eye. Shiro was still adjusting to his new prosthetic. It was lighter than the last, and more sensitive.

Most importantly, they’d had eight long weeks to relearn each other. Surprisingly, Shiro was the more impatient one. He wanted to make up for lost time, eager to prove that nothing had changed. There were still times he caught Keith looking at him, when Keith didn’t think he was paying attention. Like Keith wasn’t sure if he was really there. Shiro wanted to do everything he could to convince him he wasn’t going anywhere.

“You’re still healing,” Keith admonished, trying to sound as serious as he could. Shiro thought it was terrible.

“Can a healing man do this?!” He swooped in and picked Keith up in his arms, making the former thief shriek before he dropped him on their bed,

“Shiro no!”

“Shiro _yes!”_

Then he dropped himself on top of him.

Keith flailed as he was pinned, laughing into Shiro’s shoulder and helping to slide his shirt up over his head. There were new scars now, the one down his chest deeper than the others. But it had healed along with everything else and given enough time, it would just be one more story written in Shiro’s skin. “Tell me again.” He wheedled like a kid asking for a bedtime story. “One more time.”

“Mmmm.” Shiro dragged his mouth down Keith’s clavicle, leaving a wet trail of almost-kisses against his skin. “You, me, some little shop out in Arizona or New Mexico. Somewhere with a lot of sun and a lot of stars at night. We’ll open up some kind of garage for all your suped up toys and go racing out in the desert. I’ll bet I can even beat you.”

The younger man gasped as Shiro laved his tongue against one pert nipple. “Like hell you can.” He breathed, arching up into the touch. “I’m going to leave you in the dust.”

“I guess we’ll see.” He worked Keith’s pants down his hips, peeling back his boxers and continued his feather light kisses until Keith’s muscles trembled.  “Ung, I’ve missed you so much. Do you know how hard it is to look at you for two months without being able to touch?”

“Is this another dick joke?” Keith asked suspiciously as Shiro laughed and kissed him breathless.

“It wasn’t going to be, but now that you mention i- _toof!”_ Shiro rubbed at his belly where Keith’s incredibly bony elbow had smacked him. Keith rolled on top of him, pinning him to the mattress before leaning in and bumping their noses together. He brushed his smile against Shiro’s, swaying his hips at a languid pace.

“You didn’t finish it,” Keith complained, and Shiro linked his arms around Keith’s back, shamelessly cupping his ass and wiggling his eyebrows with so much intent.

“A two-bedroom apartment, for just the two of us, with a bathtub and a rocking chair.” Keith oohed appreciatively, and Shiro grinned at how shamelessly excited he was. “One room’ll be for guests. We’re going to have guests.” It was a good dream. Simple and attainable and just within reach. It was more than Keith had ever had, and Shiro took great pride in being able to give it to him. “And beanbags.”

“Beanbags?”

“Hunk wanted them, for when they visit.”

“It sounds nice.” Keith sighed and lifted his hips and Shiro took advantage to switch them back around, trapping Keith against the wall.

They were interrupted by the sound of pounding on their door. “Oh my  _god_ , are you serious right now? Is that supposed to be your sexy foreplay talk? I thought listening to you doing it would traumatize me, but I think you’ve already ruined sex for life.” Lance yelled, but his voice was quickly muffled by Hunk.

“Sorry, I’m taking him out of here. We’ll be back later.”

Shiro dropped his head to Keith’s shoulder and chuckled as the front door slammed and the sound of Lance’s indignant squawking died away. “They just don’t appreciate some good old fashioned seduction.”

Keith ran his hands down Shiro’s spine, running the pads of his fingertips across each hard shifting muscle, acting like they hadn’t been interrupted at all. “Consider me seduced, are you going to fuck me or not?”

They stripped easily and Keith lay back to appreciate the sight of Shiro stretched over him, cock thick and hard between his legs and body on display. All of Shiro’s skills at pleasing a client were now his alone and Keith was helplessly wanting.

He drew him into another kiss. Nipping at his lips until Shiro gave in, letting Keith take him apart with his mouth. It was a hungry, sloppy kiss, drawn out and slow as he sucked down Shiro’s tongue. He wanted to taste every inch of him, focused with single-minded intensity on making him shudder. _Stay with me,_ Keith begged, his hands spread wide along Shiro’s flank. _Please let this be enough._

Keith shuddered when they parted, dragging in greedy gulps of air. The chill ran all the way down his throat, a moment’s relief before Shiro’s heated kisses pulled him back down, working across his shoulders, laving his tongue across his skin. There was a reverence in the way he moved, like he was afraid this would be their last chance, and Keith didn’t know how to deal with that, didn’t know what to do about the doubts that lingered, even as they built dreams of sunshine and starlight where no one else could touch them.

“It’s been a while since we’ve done this. Like this,” Shiro murmured, and Keith felt the words rumble against his chest. Shiro’s hand had slid lower, settling over Keith’s thigh. It was a habit he’d developed, ever since seeing the scars that were left after Keith’s bike crash, and he traced the lines of Keith’s hip like another apology. Keith didn’t know how to make him stop; it wasn’t Shiro’s sin to atone for. Yet part of him wished he would never stop; at least someone cared. “Are you okay with-”

“I thought you were up for it,” Keith interrupted, but gently. His heart was hammering in his chest, kicked up with adrenaline as he guided Shiro’s hands between his legs. Shiro’s pretty dark eyes were almost blown back with want, and Keith’s mouth had suddenly gone dry. He leaned in, brushing against Shiro’s kiss-bruised lips, they were petal pink and just as soft, and Keith liked them around his fingers almost as much he liked them around his cock. “It’s okay if you’re not, but you should tell me because I really want you to finger me open.”

Shiro groaned, wrapping his hand around Keith’s length and stroking slowly, enjoying the smooth weight. “I think I can do that.” He chuckled against Keith’s ear, thumbing over the head of his partner’s cock in languid circles to make him squirm. When he pulled away to grab the lube, Keith let out a shaky breath and whined, bucking his hips against air to demand more teasing friction.

“Wow, eager aren’t you?”

“You’re not the only one who’s had to wait months for this.” Keith huffed irritably and shifted again. “Come _on_ , Shiro!” Even with his demands, he still jumped at the first touch of cold, slick fingers against his skin. He was tight, tense as Shiro worked one finger past his entrance and fucked him open until he relaxed.

Shiro kissed the hollow of Keith’s throat, tender and slow as he took the younger man apart with just his fingers. One became two, stretching him wider as Keith spread his thighs until they trembled. Shiro swallowed every muffled curse and plea from Keith’s lips, rocking with him as Shiro rutted against his hip. “I miss the way you feel.” He murmured. “I missed everything about you so much.”

“I need more.” Keith’s voice was already broken, thready with desire. Shiro would have given him anything when he asked like that. He pulled his fingers free and pressed his cock against Keith’s dripping hole, sinking inch by inch passed the taut ring of muscle.

“ _Fuck_!” Shiro rasped, trying to keep control as Keith squeezed down. It had been too long and Keith felt so maddeningly good, silky tight around him.

Keith’s lips parted in a silent scream as Shiro pushed in deeper, filling him up inch after maddening inch, but he gasped as a flood of warmth rippled across his belly, spreading out through his thighs and up to his arms until his hands balled into fists. “Oh _oh!”_ And Shiro rolled his hips, making Keith buck in surprised want, his cock spitting precum as his partner fit in just right.

“Come on,” Shiro whispered in his ear, absolutely filthy when he was achingly sweet, as he coaxed his hips up. Keith obliged, wrapping his legs around Shiro’s waist, spread open just right for Shiro to press in, burying himself deeper, thick heat dragging against his trembling nerves. “Come on, baby, I want to feel you.”

Keith mewled out his lover’s name, trying to decide if he wanted to curse him or praise him. He held onto Shiro, keeping himself steady as he bore down on him, greedy for more and trying to catch the flickering heat that burst through his nerves before it undulated through his skin. God Shiro was so thick, filled him up so good, Keith couldn’t breathe. There was no room in his body for air, no room for anything else but the pleasure that kept him whining.

“Keith… Keith look at me.” Shiro kissed the corner of his mouth, urged him closer, and Keith would have given him anything. “You’re mine.”

It settled something inside of Keith, some frightened corner of doubt that always wondered no matter how many times Shiro reassured him. It was easier to let go with Shiro’s fucked out confessions, stripped of anything but raw truth. It was impossible not to believe it when Shiro looked at him like he was worth more than a fist full of diamonds.

“I like that.” He murmured as Shiro thrust another gasp from his lips. They found a slow rhythm, almost lazy as they relearned each other’s bodies. Skin slid against skin, flushed red as goosebumps raced down Keith’s spine. Shiro wrapped one warm, calloused hand around his cock as Keith was trapped between thrusting into that sweet friction and back down to fill himself so perfectly. He arched back with a wanton moan as Shiro watched intently, unable to drag his eyes away from the sight.

“Tell me what else you like.” Shiro ordered quietly. “Tell me what you want, I want to hear you say it.”

“Fuck me harder!” Keith was too impatient for subtlety. “I need you, Shiro. I need _more_.”

Shiro just laughed, that warm possessive rumble that tightened low in Keith’s groin. He wrapped his hand around Shiro’s, holding them still so he could thrust against their palms.

His other hand skimmed down Shiro’s shoulder, brushing where it ended so abruptly before curling around his back, as hard as he could. It was like a dance, an endless cycle of give and take that stoked a fire inside him. He let it build and build, flooding through his veins and claiming every cell in his body until Keith wasn’t sure how he was still holding on.

Then Shiro said his name.

A breathy, guttural sound like it was fucked out of him, and Keith pressed into him, eyes rolling towards the ceiling in helpless surrender.

“Yeah, yeah Shiro come on. Come on come on there…” He groaned, throwing his head back, dragging his hand up Shiro’s back and leaving long white lines that flooded with pink. Shiro was panting in his ear, tongue wicked as it traced the outer curve.

“Louder,” he order, grinding into him so good, Keith flushed with shame as he threw his head back and sobbed. Shiro was on him in an instant, mouth hot and demanding as he painted bruises in his skin. It was too much, a rush of sensation that drew Keith away. He was begging and he didn’t even know it, tongue twisting around words that already stopped making sense.

“Shiro gonna, I’m gonna-”

Keith gasped as Shiro rolled unto his back, forcing Keith into his lap. He spoke with his hand, moving him until Keith straddled his hips, touching him everywhere he wanted as Keith sank on his cock, impaled as far as it would go. His vision blurred, eyes unfocused as he tried to understand how much Shiro took, how deeply he touched him, and Keith’s belly rippled with a shaky moan.

“Like this?” Shiro whispered, stroking along the inside of Keith’s thighs, and he nearly came right there. “Can you come like this? Let me see you.”

Keith braced his hands down on Shiro’s chest as he rode him, bouncing on Shiro’s cock with wordless pleas. He was loud and unrepentant, fucking Shiro deeper until his body drew taut as a bow string. He came with a shout, spurting across Shiro’s stomach in wet stripes and shaking as the pleasure crashed through him. Shiro wrapped his hand tightly around Keith’s hips, riding out each aftershock with a sharp thrust.

He couldn’t last, not with Keith’s body milking him dry, and Shiro came still buried inside his partner. It has been so long that it was almost painful, great shocks of pleasure-pain stealing away his ability to breathe and for a moment, all he saw was white.

“Shiro?” Keith roused Shiro was gentle hands, still panting for air and worried as he checked to see if they’d caused any damage. “Are you okay? Was it too much?”

“Wasn’t enough.” It took too long for Shiro to be able to speak again. He could feel his body trembling, exhausted and pushed to his limits. There was still more recovering to do to get back into shape, but he’d get there. “I need a few more rounds to get my stamina back.”

Keith laughed and rolled off of him, walking slightly awkwardly to the bathroom to get cleaned up. He returned with a damp towel, tossing it at Shiro’s face before settling back into bed. “After all the work we went through to get you a new heart, let’s not overwork it all at once. We’ve got plenty of time for a round two when you’ve rested.”

“I don’t think I got a new one.” Shiro said as he peaked out from under the towel, so abruptly and so seriously that Keith expected a lecture on biology. “I’m pretty sure you have it.”

Keith groaned and flung himself into a pillow, trying to smother himself to death so he didn’t have to hear Shiro’s laughter. It didn’t take long for his partner to drag himself on top of him, covering him with his body as he snuggled closer. Keith squirmed away on principle, but he didn’t really want to escape. Shiro rewarded him with kisses across his shoulder.

“Keeeith,” Shiro whined, unrepentant, and he had no trouble getting louder and squeakier the more he was ignored. It wasn’t a battle Keith could win, not that he tried very hard. When he turned to face him, Shiro plopped on top of him like an over-affectionate blanket.

Keith snickered, a low rumbling sound that echoed through his chest, as he scratched through Shiro’s sweat-kissed locks, leaving them ruffled and floppy. “Tell me again… One last time.”

Shiro settled in, a contented smile on his face. “Endless sunshine and sandy hills as far as the eye can see, good for racing. A big garage where we can work. And I want a gym.”

“I thought we were getting a two room apartment.”

“Two _bed_ rooms, Keith. It can have as many rooms as we want.”

“That sounds dumb.”

“It’s not,” Shiro reassured him, and kissed the center of his sternum, before shamelessly nuzzling in. “We’ll have all of it once the doctors are done with me.”

“And we can afford it, too.”

Keith rummaged around beneath his bed to make sure the little pouch was still there. Maybe he should start hiding it under his dirty laundry like Hunk. With a laugh, he tipped it out into Shiro’s palm, their whole future glittering brightly in his hands.

“I still can’t believe you managed to pull this off without anyone catching you. You’re lucky that they didn’t have an exact number of diamonds that went missing.”

Keith affected his most innocent grin, pretending to be insulted. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Takashi. Besides, Agent Allura never even missed them.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find Dans on tumblr [here](http://nevertrustastilesthing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Rune's tumblr is [ here](http://runicscribbles.tumblr.com)


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